What Should Have Never Been Found
by No.13
Summary: Due to circumstances, Tezuka is forced to make an after school trip to the house belonging to friends of his grandfather. Fuji accompanies him and they encounter something unexpected.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** About none for this chapter, though the fic is going to become bloody and (if I manage to convey it) scary. ^^

**Characters: **Tezuka, Fuji. (Friendshipp-y). Rest of Seigaku makes random appearances.

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

Without further ado, enjoy!

* * *

**What Should Have Never Been Found**

**One**

Snowflakes drifted over a barren landscape covered in white as the grey sky grew darker. It had been cold the entire day, but now that night neared, temperatures dropped further. Meteorologists had already proclaimed the winter one of the coldest in years and no matter how well Fuji recalled this very same spot from more than one summer excursion – without fresh greenery, lively class mates and bus loads of tourists this area felt like an entirely different world.

Those steep mountains were always snow-capped, but now they were mere silhouettes against thick clouds. And the happy chatter of vacationers had vanished, as had the bird's songs. There were no more leafs to rustle in the wind, and a thick layer of snow muffled the sound of their steps.

"Are you cold?" Tezuka's voice cut through the suffocating silence, muffled by a thick wool scarf. His face was barely visible, protected against the cold by multiple layers of fabric.

"No." Fuji replied, hoping his voice would be audible over the wind.

He would have added that walking uphill was keeping him warm, even if he had wanted nothing more than to climb on the next train back to Tokyo the moment he'd stepped out on the platform. But it was too cold to say anymore and his cheeks already hurt from muttering this single syllable.

Tezuka glanced back at Fuji from the corner of his eye, though he was unable to read his friend's expression. He pressed his lips together and kept walking ahead, internally berating himself for letting Fuji come along.

Yet to be honest, he was glad for Fuji's company. They might not have chatted particularly much during the train ride, but the mere presence of somebody beside him had set Tezuka's mind at ease. Now however, he began to fear to have asked too much of his friend. No matter what Fuji claimed, he could tell his friend was paler than normal underneath those thick layers of cloth.

At that moment he finally caught sight of lights in the distance. As he remembered the woods slowly gave way to a residential neighbourhood, consisting of houses surrounded by large gardens and guarded by high stone walls.

It was a beautiful area in summer, tranquil and cool compared to the heat of the city. But in the middle of winter most inhabitants had fled the region and left it as still as a black and white photograph.

Tezuka fastened his steps, eager to leave the biting cold and abruptly turned left, taking three steps to a wooden door within the wall, almost hidden behind bushes. Fuji closed up to him while he searched for the keys in his bag.

"Nakayama. Is this it?" Fuji asked while eying the name plate and Tezuka nodded. Fuji glanced down the silent street, gauging the few visible houses.

"Your grandfather's friends must be wealthy people." He commented and his breath condensed to small, white clouds immediately. "I can imagine that spending the summer here is very nice."

"It is nice in summer." Tezuka automatically replied while he unlocked the door, recalling many summers he had come here when Tokyo had become too hot and humid. "But very cold in winter." He added and ushered Fuji into the expansive backyard.

"It's beautiful." Fuji uttered, glancing up at the two-story building. As far as Tezuka was concerned, it was just a common two-storey house which mixed traditional with modern elements. The well-kept garden was what made it special, with its wide lawns, tastefully arranged flower beds, stone pathways and the large pond that hid in the shade of massive Ginkgo trees in the far corner. But tonight all of this was hidden underneath the snow.

Not much had changed since he had come here half a year ago, Tezuka thought, but didn't stop to observe on his way around the house and to the front entrance. He hurried to unlock the door, careful not to accidentally set off the alarm and belatedly noticed Fuji was still lingering a few steps behind him, gazing left and right.

"Let's go inside." Tezuka merely said, wanting to finally leave the cold. Not that the house would be much warmer as its owners were away, but at least it would provide shelter from the icy wind.

Fuji smiled and followed him up to the dark sliding door. "The garden must be wonderful in summer."

Tezuka nodded and pushed the door open; glad to see the lights flicker to live. "Come in." He ordered and wasted no time in shutting the door after Fuji had entered.

"Ah, this feels good." Fuji sighed, unwrapping the scarf that had covered most of his face. "It was freezing outside."

Tezuka nodded while unfastening his black coat. The inside of the house - thankfully - was warmer than he expected. After he had slid off his shoes, Fuji rubbed his hands together in an attempt to restore circulation in his paper-white fingers. "So, can I help you with anything?"

Tezuka thought for a moment. "Perhaps you could take a look around on the ground floor and see if everything is in order. Or see if there's any tea in the kitchen."

"Tea?" Fuji tilted his head in askance.

Tezuka glanced up from trying to untie the laces of the thick boots his mother had forced onto him earlier that day. "We could both use a cup..."

"True." Fuji said and then pointed over to a couple of pictures lined up on a shelf. "Oh, look, that is your grandfather, isn't it? And is that you?"

Fuji leaned closer and Tezuka felt heat creep up his cheeks. The picture had to be ten years old at least – he was standing in the backyard, proudly holding up a picture that most probably was supposed to depict the garden with his family, but looked more like modern art.

Fuji smiled. "You didn't change much, did you? Already so serious as a child…"

Tezuka did not reply and Fuji glanced at the other pictures. "Are those the Nakayamas?"

A short glance at the picture of a well-dressed elderly couple and Tezuka confirmed Fuji's question with a nod. "And the lady with the cat is the late Mori-san."

"She was the one who lived next door?" Fuji questioned. "She looks nice. I think I would have liked to meet her."

"She was a nice old lady." Tezuka replied. "And my grandfather was quite surprised she died so suddenly - but perhaps it was the cold."

Fuji grimaced. "It's too cold, really. Say, where did your grandfather's friends go again?"

"New Zealand." Tezuka said.

"I'm envious." Fuji complained, barely covering a flinch when he felt cold floorboards through three layers of socks. Tezuka did not answer, but the look in his eyes read plain agreement. Though instead of letting his thoughts wander, Tezuka led them down a warmly-lit corridor until they arrived at a staircase leading up to the second floor.

"The kitchen is over there." He pointed to a sliding door on the right a little further down the corridor. "Just behind that is the living room. Feel free to make some tea and wait in the living room. Meanwhile I'm going to check the rooms upstairs."

Fuji smiled and they parted ways.

With a sigh Tezuka climbed up the wooden staircase, letting his gaze roam over the pictures decorating the wall. He felt tired, though he was loath to admit it and if Fuji's pallor was any indication, his friend, too, was struggling.

A glance at the wall clock mounted to the wall at the end of the upstairs corridor announced if wasn't much past six. This meant they'd not make it home before nine at the earliest. If worst came to worst and they missed a train…

The four rooms upstairs were quickly checked upon. One large bathroom where Tezuka took the liberty of turning the floor heating up a little; a bedroom with blinds drawn; a sitting room which was colder than the rest due to one wall consisting mostly of windows facing the backyard. Outside the sky had darkened considerably, though the snow had stopped falling.

He could make out steep mountains as black silhouettes, disappearing into thick clouds and with a sigh he turned away. Going out into the dreary cold was not an inviting prospect, but as they had school tomorrow, they couldn't stay. Coming here on a weekday had been foolish idea from the beginning on, and he had told his parents so.

But while his grandfather might have agreed, their obligation to the Nakayamas weighted stronger, and thus the task of making sure their home was left untouched and well-ordered even after the sudden death of their neighbour had fallen to him.

At least he hadn't had to make the trip alone, Tezuka thought with a slight smile.

He sighed and dragged his feet to the last room upstairs. The study had always been his favourite, housing a sheer endless amount of rare books and comfortable armchairs - the room was a little odd considering the rest of the house was mainly kept in Japanese style, but those chairs defeated all arguments.

A thud downstairs ripped him out of his reverie.

Tezuka's head snapped up, even though his mind told him to think nothing of it. Fuji might have dropped something - still, he hurried back to the staircase as fast as he could.

"Fuji!" He called, taking two stairs with one step. "Fuji!"

There was no answer and the hairs on the back of Tezuka's neck rose.

He broke into a run, crossing the few metres to the kitchen in a split second, and pushed the door open violently. The bang echoed in his ears like an explosion, but the kitchen was empty and Tezuka felt dizzy.

Pulling himself together he stepped back into the corridor and saw the door to living room standing open. His chest contracted.

"Fuji." He called again, already crossing the distance with large steps. Cold wood met his fingers, and an icy gust of wind hit his face the moment he slid the door open.

The first thing he saw in the dim light was the half-opened door leading out to the backyard. And almost directly in front of it he caught sight of Fuji's prone form. His team mate was on his side, his face turned towards the door, honey-brown hair splayed out on the light carpet and an arm motionlessly flung out.

Tezuka's heart froze.

He crossed the distance in the blink of an eye; fell to his knees and as carefully as possible while trying to stop his hands' shaking he turned Fuji over. His mind screamed to hurry and a shiver ran down his spine. No blood or injury was visible, but Tezuka stiffened when Fuji's head lolled back.

The body in his arms resembled a life-sized doll – Fuji's eyes were closed and his cheeks pale as porcelain. Belatedly he remembered to check his friend's pulse and felt an enormous weight fall of his shoulders when he found it normal.

Fuji's lips were tinted blue and Tezuka felt his heart clench. Swallowing his own fears, he pulled Fuji into his lap and looked around in search of a blanket.

Light brown hair fluttered in another gust of wind and Tezuka's eyes returned to the half-open door. Cold air crept in, and he leaned forward, trying not to jostle his team mate, and slid the door closed before temperatures could sink further.

Then he sat back and sighed.

Maybe he should have told Fuji to stay home when the boy had asked to accompany him. Having spent three years on the same tennis team together had taught him that while Fuji pretended it didn't faze him, extreme weather conditions easily got to him.

It might have to do with his low blood pressure as well, Tezuka contemplated, pressing the back of his hand against Fuji's forehead, checking for a fever. As expected however, Fuji's skin was cool to the touch and Tezuka had to cross a cold off of his list of possible causes.

If he was honest to himself, he was rather certain Fuji's abrupt collapse had been brought on by stress combined with the weather. The looming exams were eating away at Tezuka's reserves as well – even though they were not particularly relevant for him, the atmosphere at school had changed dramatically.

Days were spent in tense silence, but barely one passed without incident – fights, collapses, nervous breakdowns had become a daily occurrence.

While Tezuka would have been contend to let Fuji rest as long as necessary under usual circumstances, the two still had to make the trip back to Tokyo tonight. Luckily Fuji picked that moment to start stirring. Long lashes fluttered and a soft groan escaped half-opened lips.

"Fuji?" Tezuka asked and eyes opened.

"Tezuka?" Fuji questioned, blinking. His eyes were filled with a dozen unvoiced questions and Tezuka's shoulders slumped.

"Are you okay?" He tentatively asked, even though he could see Fuji was disoriented and feel the tremors running through the slim body. Fuji's lips formed syllables, then he abruptly made to sit up, but Tezuka's hands on his shoulder kept him down.

Tezuka shook his head softly – and Fuji's lips slowly formed their familiar smile.

"I fainted?" He asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Sorry. I didn't …"

"Never mind." Tezuka immediately replied. "How are you feeling?"

He couldn't help the note of worry colouring his voice. Fuji was still pale and the darkness outside looked less inviting then before.

This time he allowed Fuji to sit up. "I'm okay. Did you close the door?"

Tezuka nodded and Fuji smiled. "I thought I … Must be the exams. Say, did much time pass?"

"No. I think I heard you fall and came down immediately."

Fuji glanced back outside.

By now night had completely fallen and he could barely make out anything in the darkness. Trees formed black silhouettes against a dark sky, and the soft light permeating the window revealed an expanse of undisturbed, white snow.

"Are you still dizzy?" Tezuka inquired. "I could phone my father and ask him if he can pick us up. It would take some time, but it's probably better than taking the train…"

Fuji waved Tezuka's concern off. "No, no, please don't make your poor father drive all the way out here. With the condition the high ways are in we'd be faster if we walked back to Tokyo."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." Fuji nodded and smiled sheepishly. "Don't worry so much. I don't quite understand why I blacked out either. One moment I was looking outside, the next I'm on the ground."

"You should consult a doctor then." Tezuka advised, but sighed. "I'll make us some tea before we head home."

Fuji looked as if he wanted to protest, but remained silent as Tezuka helped him up. Much to Tezuka's relief Fuji let himself be steered over to the couch and while his face was still as white as the snow outside, he didn't sway on his feet.

"Shall I help you?" Fuji asked when Tezuka disappeared to the kitchen.

The dark-haired boy shook his head and left the doors wide open, while he set about making tea. For once he felt rather pleased at discovering tea bags in the cupboard, which saved time preparing. He felt strangely uneasy here and the darkness outside didn't help.

They were a long way from Tokyo and there was school tomorrow and homework to be done. The trip back would take long and if he could, he would leave immediately. But he was afraid what would happen to Fuji if he rushed them now – he did not want to imagine him on one of those lonely, snow-covered roads leading from here to the station with Fuji collapsing.

With a sigh he placed two boiling teacups on a tray and carried them to the living room.

Fuji was leaning against the couch's backrest, his eyelids fluttering and slowly, but certainly he was loosing the battle against sleep. Tezuka hesitated for a moment, but then he cleared his throat.

"Fuji." He called out and set down the tray.

"Ah, thank you, Tezuka." Fuji replied, sitting up straight. He smiled softly and wrapped both hands around the steaming cup, as Tezuka sank into the armchair opposite of the couch.

"Do you think it's going to stop snowing anytime tonight?" Fuji asked.

Tezuka glanced outside, where in the faint light he could see snowflakes continuously drifting down. "The forecast didn't say so."

"I heard so as well." Fuji agreed. "But it's supposed to clear up next week."

He carefully took a sip from the cup. "Though it won't be getting any warmer yet, probably."

Tezuka nodded in agreement and Fuji took to studying the wall ornaments. There were classic ink paintings, tastefully adjusted to the interior decoration, but a corner caught Fuji's interest. It didn't quite fit in with the rest of the room as it was home to a colourful mix of paraphernalia; pictures, postcards, stones and figurines just a part of the eclectic collection.

"They surely do like to travel." Fuji said and Tezuka followed his glance.

"They do." He agreed. "Nakayama-san was an archaeologist and his wife a historian."

"There must be hardly a place in the world they haven't been to, then." Fuji concluded. In his mind he imagined the elderly couple he'd seen on the picture earlier travelling to distant countries, deciphering old texts and discovering forgotten villages. "Did they tell you about their travels?"

"Often." Tezuka replied and Fuji was surprised to find his friend's gaze distant, as well as a small, soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Though I believe they exaggerated a lot as well."

"Did they?" Fuji asked, chuckling.

Tezuka pursed his lips. "Sometimes they told me about ghosts and monsters and the like. I think they wanted to scare me."

Fuji could picture the scene all too well – a friendly, elderly couple trying there best to get a reaction from an unusually expressionless six-year old Tezuka Kunimitsu. Who probably interrupted them more than once with phrases like 'Ghosts don't exist' or 'That's unrealistic'.

"That must have been quite a daunting task." Fuji commented, hiding his amusement behind his tea cup. "Did they succeed?"

"Not really." Tezuka replied. Though the times they had seen it fit to use pieces of their collections had been eerily convincing.

Silence settled as memories chased each other in Tezuka's mind and Fuji turned his gaze outside. Snowflakes steadily kept drifting down and the white surface was as undisturbed as before. He couldn't help wondering why he had fainted – he hadn't felt dizzy or particularly light-headed.

All he could recall was catching sight of a silhouette outside – a small animal looking for shelter, he had thought, and opened the door. But maybe it hadn't been an animal attracted by the light; maybe what he had seen had been one of the bushes outside moving in the wind.

Still…

He had opened the door and darkness had overwhelmed his senses.

Yet that darkness – something had not felt natural about it. All had happened far too fast to tell, but wasn't the speed at which everything had occurred his first clue? Fainting abruptly was not unheard of – though Fuji had never experienced it himself.

Maybe, just maybe there had been something else involved here.

Something he didn't dare thinking further about as the implications alone send a cold shiver down his spine.

Fuji bit his lip. Endlessly turning the matter over in his mind clearly wouldn't bring about an explanation. And neither would it bring him or Tezuka home.

"We should leave." Fuji muttered, wearily gazing at the blackness outside.

Tezuka placed his empty tea cup on the table. Fuji was correct, but that didn't let the outside appear any more inviting. "The walk to the station will take at least thirty minutes. Are you feeling up to it?"

Fuji chuckled softly. "I'm fine, really. You worry too much, you know."

How could he help that, Tezuka thought. He still shuddered to recall the moment he had burst into the living room to find Fuji unconscious on the floor.

"We could call a cab." He suggested.

Fuji tilted his head. "Are you sure they'll operate here with the roads in this condition?"

Tezuka had to admit he wasn't and with that Fuji got up. "Let's go before we miss the last train."

He seemed steady on his feet and the pallor of Fuji's face had improved in the last half an hour. Blood had returned to his lips and his cheeks were tinted pink. With a nod Tezuka stood and turned to the door.

"Let's go." He agreed.

Reluctantly they left the warm living room and it felt as if temperatures had already dropped ten degrees when they arrived at the front door. Silently Tezuka slipped on his coat, watching Fuji mirror his actions from the corner of his eye. He wondered whether Fuji's sneakers were warm enough for the weather outside, but then again Fuji hadn't known he'd join Tezuka on a trip to the countryside in the afternoon.

Fuji shuddered when Tezuka opened the door and an icy gust of wind hit them face on. Tezuka swallowed, pulled up his muffler higher and set out into the early night.

_tbc_

_

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_Hope you enjoyed reading, feel free to head over to lj for more or leave me a review. ^__^


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings:** None as of now.

**Characters: **Tezuka, Fuji. (Friendshipp-y). Rest of Seigaku makes random appearances.

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

**Thank you** very, very much to everybody who reviewed. Your words mean a lot to me and I hope you'll enjoy the next chapter of this fic as well. To answer the question; this is not a sequel to Ghost Hunt (meaning: Tezuka doesn't yet know the supernatural exists), though the genre is actually the same. The villain is another, as is the plot, but that should be explained somewhere in this story ^_~

Without further ado, enjoy!

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**What Should Have Never Been Found**

_Two_

"I'm home." Fuji called and hurriedly shut the door behind him, glad to be back in the familiar, well-lit corridor of his own home. Warm air assaulted his frozen cheeks and awkwardly he started pulling gloves of his numb fingers.

The door to the living room opened and his sister glanced at him in surprise. "Hello Syuusuke." Then she raised an eyebrow. "You're quite late."

"I texted you earlier." Fuji protested through stiff cheeks that were reluctant to move. A tingling sensation however told him the blood was returning to them – his fingers and toes on the other hand remained numb.

His sister merely smiled. "My, my. One time mom leaves on a trip and you immediately start hanging out with your friends until midnight, doing God knows what."

Fuji pouted and bent down to untie his shoelaces, though his fingers hardly moved. For one it wasn't midnight, and for another his sister knew very well that Tezuka was probably the last person with whom one could get into trouble. Still, she apparently enjoyed herself very much depicting her little brother turning delinquent.

"Next we'll know you'll have started smoking and drinking. Or will start bringing home girls or stay out all night. And we'll get a call from the police informing us …"

"Sis'." Fuji finally uttered, exasperated.

Yumiko chuckled. "Can't I tease my little brother a little? I won't be able to do that for the next two weeks after all."

He would not have admitted it, but deep inside the playful reception helped to dispel the last vestiges of dread and confusion from his mind. When he had been walking from the house to the train station with Tezuka, deep inside he had been fearing an abrupt attack.

Fuji had never been particularly afraid of the darkness, but tonight something had felt different. It might have just been the silence of the area at that time, but then again…

With a shake of his head he finally managed to slip off his shoes and turned back to his sister.

"Did you finish packing?" Fuji asked, put his coat on the hanger and followed his sister into the kitchen. Yumiko routinely started boiling water while Fuji fetched two cups from the cup board, careful not to let them slip from his still cold fingers.

"About." Yumiko eventually answered. "Everything important is packed – I'll just have to find out what I forgot once I arrive. And then again, I'll only be gone for five days, so I'll probably be able to live without it."

Fuji chuckled and once the tea had been brewed he followed his sister back into the living room. Very slowly life was returning to his feet, though his toes remained numb. Maybe a hot bath would help them.

"So, where did the two of you go that you got back this late?" Yumiko inquired, dropping a spoon of sugar into her tea.

Fuji smiled tiredly and sank into one of the large armchairs. "Well… the house of friends of Tezuka's grandfather near Nikko."

His sister tilted her head and Fuji continued. "They are on holiday and wanted somebody to make sure everything was in order."

"Still, it's quite a trip to make on a week day." Yumiko commented.

"It is. I think I slept most of the way back." Fuji yawned, silently reminding himself to thank Tezuka tomorrow for waking him up in time. He reached for his tea cup and burrowed deeper into the warm cushions of the chair, enjoying the tingling feeling that ran through his fingers. Yumiko reached for a magazine she'd been reading earlier, while her brother gazed outside.

The darkness was as complete as it had been in Nikko and Fuji wondered whether he was going to faint the moment he opened the door as he had done earlier. No matter how much strain exams were putting on him – he still doubted it had been fatigue.

But what had it been then?

Had he turned paranoid after his fainting spell or had there really been something unnatural about the darkness? Had he seen something outside, or had that just been his imagination?

Fuji pressed his lips together and tried curling his toes, but they still refused to comply.

"Sis'." He contemplatively said, not turning his eyes away from the outside. "Is there something special in the Nikko area?"

Yumiko glanced up from the glossy magazine she had been leafing through and immediately understood her little brother wasn't talking about tourist attractions. She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"When we were at that house, I thought I saw something outside." Fuji replied thoughtfully. "I opened the door to the backyard – but the snow there was undisturbed."

He purposefully left out the part about him fainting – either his sister would mercilessly tease him or start to worry. And Tezuka had done enough worrying today already; so much that Fuji at times had wondered whether the cold wasn't doing odd things to his friend's usually stoic character.

"Are you sure you aren't mistaken?" His sister inquired.

"I might be." Fuji admitted. "It was dark outside and there were a lot of plants. But, let's say if there was a reason to be certain something had been there – what would you think?"

Yumiko caught his eye, but didn't ask him to clarify his reasons. "I can't decide for you – but Nikko is an old place. Very old."

Her eyes grew distant. "Those mountains … there are stories. One doesn't know what is true and what is not. But." And with that she looked back at her brother. "That doesn't mean whatever you encountered was truly something out of those stories. Unless of course, you sensed something?"

Fuji hesitated. He wasn't as gifted as his sister where the paranormal was concerned, yet he knew he could sense spirits and such when they were close. Yet try as he might, he couldn't recall anything that had felt out of the ordinary with that house.

He shook his head. "Nothing in particular."

Yet on the inside he wondered whether the sudden onset of darkness didn't make a good argument. The longer he had mulled over the affair in his mind, the more certain he grew that his fainting spell hadn't been due to natural causes.

Or at least no exclusively.

"As I said." His sister added. "Nikko is a peculiar area, so I wouldn't have been surprised had you encountered something there. Usually spirits and their like avoid humans, but that doesn't mean you don't stumble about some from time to time. Especially at that place."

Fuji frowned. He hadn't sensed a spiritual presence during the entire trip. With a soft sigh he put his empty cup back on the table.

"It was probably nothing then." He said. "I'll go and take a bath now."

* * *

The following day began as dreary as the last one had ended; dark grey clouds hung deeply over snow-covered roads and all life appeared to have frozen. Tezuka passed empty parks on his way to school and as he stopped feeling his toes after five minutes, he wondered whether he shouldn't have taken the bus.

The cars passing him however did not move much faster than him due to slippery ground and patches of ice. He had already seen two small accidents which made him wonder whether all teachers would make it to school in time.

Still, he though as he rubbed his hands together in a hopeless attempt to restore the circulation in his fingers, he wouldn't mind being in a warmer place now.

"Good morning, Tezuka." A cheerful voice greeted him when he stopped at a traffic light.

He turned to find Fuji beside himself, almost unrecognizable with most of his face hidden underneath a thick scarf. Still, from what he could see his friend's pallor had improved since yesterday and at long last Tezuka could stop wondering whether he had been wrong to accept Fuji's offer to accompany him.

"Good morning." He returned.

"Doesn't look like there'll be tennis practice today either." Fuji commented, eyeing the layers of snow that slowly had begun covering even the more frequented roads. Usually those were kept clear, but with the amount of snowfall lately this was turning into an impossible task.

Tezuka nodded and let the fact that he hadn't even brought his tennis bag speak for itself.

Fuji chuckled and Tezuka wondered if the icy air didn't faze him – he found that even moving his cheeks hurt. "I wonder if they'll close the school if it keeps snowing like this. Eiji is predicting this will happen on a daily basis at the moment."

Trust Kikumaru to hope for this to happen before their exams. Not that the lessons currently brought any useful knowledge, but the likelihood of students studying at home in case classes were cancelled were exceedingly low – one didn't need to be Inui to know that.

"So what does our student council president say to this? Can we look forward to a few extra holidays in the future?" Fuji asked mirthfully.

An overcrowded bus made its way slowly past them and Tezuka suddenly felt very happy he had decided to walk on this morning. "Unless the public transport stops operating that is not going to happen."

He did not add that it was far more possible to have classes cancelled due to teachers unable to make their way through the ever-growing traffic jams.

"Pity." Fuji airily commented and didn't appear overly concerned.

"We'll have a break after the exams." Tezuka evenly replied as they turned around a corner, leaving the main road behind. He could already spy the school building through the leafless branches of trees populating the small park they were crossing.

Fuji kicked up some snow. "That's almost a month away."

He really didn't want to think about what was going to happen then. Tezuka had not yet confirmed the rumour of him leaving to study abroad, but Fuji could tell from the tense line of Tezuka's shoulders whenever he thought nobody was watching him, that his friend had made a difficult decision – and wasn't certain yet he had made the correct one.

While Fuji didn't really want to see him go – another three years of playing tennis with Tezuka, Eiji and everyone else seemed like a fabulous prospect – he would support his friend regardless of which decision he would make.

"It's not a month." Tezuka corrected, shuddering as a frosty gust of wind swept over them. "It's only about three weeks."

"Is that supposed to cheer me up?" Fuji asked and Tezuka knew the small smile playing on his friend's lips bode no good. In turn he raised an eyebrow, silently asking what Fuji would have him do.

A part of himself hoped Fuji would answer honestly. Share one of those unfathomable wishes and if he could, he would make it come true – if only to see the expression on Fuji's face.

Fuji's cheerful voice dragged him out of his thoughts and back into a black and white reality. "You know, I have a far better idea."

Tezuka belatedly realized he ought to have started running the moment Fuji stopped to bend down. He started backing away once he realized what Fuji intended to do, but that was far too late to avoid the snowball aimed directly for his face.

* * *

Most lessons passed quite uneventfully. There had been that instance where one of Tezuka's classmates had almost burst into tears when she had come to face a difficult equation during math, but their new math teacher had proved himself to be competent and gotten her to understand the task without embarrassing anybody.

That aside, Tezuka had been silently amused when he caught Oishi's head dropping forward during history more than once. He had idly contemplated poking him whenever his eyes fell shut, but decided against it. Kikumaru had successfully demonstrated in front of the entire tennis club that Oishi squeaked when woken up abruptly.

He was already bemoaning not having brought a more interesting book five minutes into lunch break, when a familiar voice called for his attention.

"Tezuka!" Fuji waved from the entrance of his classroom. "Can I borrow you for a moment?"

Wordlessly Tezuka closed his book and got up, while the majority of the female population of his class apparently couldn't tear their eyes from his friend. Fuji gifted them with an extra shiny smile, before he and Tezuka disappeared into the corridor.

A wall of cold air hit him immediately and he had to take a deep breath, while Fuji looked at him sheepishly. Tezuka suppressed a shudder and raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry to bother you." Fuji said in a tone Tezuka found exceedingly hard to read. "It's just that…"

Tezuka waited patiently. While Fuji glanced down at the floor tiles, he took the moment to scrutinize his friend closely. It was true that Fuji looked decidedly better than yesterday, he still seemed paler than usual and Tezuka couldn't help feeling guilty.

"I lost my student ID yesterday." Fuji said. "At that house."

Tezuka sighed, feeling exhausting creeping over him as he recalled the dreadfully long train ride. And he could see his own fatigue mirrored on Fuji's face all too well.

"I have student council today." Tezuka evenly replied and glanced out of the window. No snowflakes were dancing in the air, but the clouds hung low and looked as if they would open any moment. There was barely enough light left outside to read by.

Fuji flashed him a half-hearted smile. "I can go by myself." he offered. "If you're okay with that, though."

Tezuka hesitated.

If he was to be honest with himself, Tezuka didn't like Fuji's suggestion. It wasn't that he didn't trust Fuji; it were the remains of dread from yesterday. Nikko was far and even if Fuji appeared healthy, he was taking a risk. The cold outside was harsh and it would be even icier up in the mountains – the last trip had already put a strain on his own health, and if his impression was anything to go by, letting Fuji go there once more was a sure way for the boy to catch a cold.

Furthermore..

Fuji hadn't actually been sick yesterday, and still he had fainted so abruptly. Tezuka still hadn't been able to banish the memory of his friend's still body from his mind – how cold Fuji's skin had been to the touch and…

What if something like that happened again? What if it happened outside, somewhere on that dimly lit mountain path connecting the railway station to the outskirts of town?

The Fuji would surely…

Unaware of the ice spreading through Tezuka's body, Fuji pursed his lips. "I know it's not good style, but would you mind lending me the keys then? I need my ID and I promise I'm not going to do anything strange."

For a moment Tezuka was about to reply he'd never even gotten the idea of Fuji doing anything odd – yet he found himself unable to voice the real reasons as to why he would like to disagree. Fuji appreciated reminders of his delicate appearance as much as Tezuka was fond of people telling him to take care of his arm.

With a sigh Tezuka turned to his satchel and found the keys without even having to search. Reluctantly he held them out, while in his head reason warred with emotion. He desperately wanted to find a reason to tell Fuji not to go – but then again, as the small voice of logic reminded him, this way of thinking was quite unreasonable.

People did not faint without a cause and surely nothing would happen to Fuji.

Although yesterday…

"Here are the keys." Tezuka said. "Can you bring them back tomorrow?"

He would have preferred to say 'Can you call me once you get back home', but Fuji would be able to tell that he was worried then. And even though concern belongs to every friendship, at times Tezuka couldn't help wondering whether he wasn't over-worried whenever Fuji was concerned.

"Of course I will." Fuji replied with a brilliant, heart-warming smile. "Thank you, Tezuka."

Then he turned and left Tezuka to watch his back disappear into the distance and Tezuka almost wished it was already the next day and Fuji had safely brought back the keys.

_tbc_

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_I hope you enjoyed reading; comments, thoughts and critique are most welcome!  
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	3. Chapter 3

**What Should Have Never Been Found**

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**Warnings:** About none for this chapter, though the fic is going to become bloody and (if I manage to convey it) scary. ^^

**Characters: **Tezuka, Fuji. (Friendshipp-y). Rest of Seigaku makes random appearances.

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**As for reviews**: A big thank you to everybody who left a review! Due to time issues, I'll do the replies to reviews every two chapters – but in case you'd prefer a pm or a direct reply, feel free to leave me a hint. ^^

Nowlife: Thank you very much for reading. I hope you'll enjoy future installments of this story as well.

Yoshikochan: Ah, Tezuka can't quite abandon his stoic front (yet). But, well, he won't spend this story merely worrying about Fuji (who ought to make good use of his chances to be playful). Anyhow, I'm glad you like the story so far and thank you very, very much for reading.

Koshi Sekisen: Thank you very much for reading. It means a lot to hear you enjoy reading this story and while I can't promise longer chapters (though some of the future chapters are going to be longer), I can promise more suspense and some action not too far in the future. Hope you'll enjoy those chapters too.

Rosie-chan: Thank you very much for reading as well as the compliments. I'll try my best to keep up the flow in the future chapters and hope you'll enjoy reading those as well.

Anjerui-senpai: Thank you very much for reading. I hope you'll like the next chapter as well.

Vhii1217: I hope I won't disappoint where surprises are concerned. And about what's going to happen to Fuji at the house this time around ~ we'll see. *smirks* Thank you very much for reading!

PWNsomeness: Actually, while this is the same genre as Ghost Hunt, it's not intended to be a sequel (Tezuka knows nothing about ghosts as of now). Thank you very much for reading and I hope you'll enjoy future chapter as well.

AniManGa19930: Thank you for reading here as well – and recommending this to your sister (though I hope she's not too young… if you're reading on lj you've already seen where this is headed…). Anyways, hope you'll enjoy a re-read of this.

Lachrymosa13blue: Thank you very much. I'll try my best to keep this interesting in the future (and while this one starts out a little "slower" than Ghost Hunt, it's going to become quite nasty later on *evil laughter*)

Lovefuji: I can't promise anything about what is going to happen to Fuji (at least for later parts of the story), but I have a weakness for sappy ends. That said, thank you for reading and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter too.

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**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

Without further ado, enjoy

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_Three_

A still landscape reminiscent of faded black and white photographs greeted Fuji the moment he stepped off the train. The level of snow outside hadn't changed since yesterday, reaching up to his ankles where the roads hadn't been cleared and the silence remained as all-encompassing.

Few people were out on the main street, disappearing hurriedly around corners into their warm, welcoming homes and those well-lit windows beckoned all the more as an icy gust of wind tore down the empty street, carrying snowflakes and dead leaves.

Fuji drew a deep breath. The freezing air burned in his lungs, but he ignored the sensation and started walking.

Snow crunched under his feet; the cold practically seeped through the soles of his shoes, numbing his toes until he would not have noted a thing had somebody taken a knife and cut them off. He kept his hands firmly stuffed in the pockets of his coat in a vain attempt to keep his fingers warm and flexible.

None of the souvenir shops that lined the street in summer had opened and apparently all restaurants were closed as well. There was one convenience store he passed on his way uphill that had lights on, though there was nobody but a bored looking store attendant inside.

A part of him wanted to enter if just to escape the biting air, yet that wouldn't bring him to his goal any sooner, nor would it get him on the train back home.

He had spend the majority of the train ride contemplating whether he needed his student ID this badly and now, that the sky was slowly darkening and the buildings along the road were growing fewer, he would have gladly turned around and taken the next train back. But then again, he had already come here and only the walk uphill and his excursion was half-over already.

Fuji turned left; leaving the main road in order to follow a path winding uphill through dark, silent woods. Yesterday he had wondered where they were going, but had trust Tezuka enough to know where he was leading them. Among this world made up of white snow and black tree trunks orientation became difficult.

Though now that he had to navigate the snow-covered maze himself, Fuji found the path discernible by old, half-vanished footprints and tell-tale gaps between trees. Within a few minutes he had lost all feeling in his feet and hands and only his own, strained breathing resounded in the air.

The exertion however was not enough to keep his mind from wandering.

What if this thing that had made him faint lurked here in the darkness? What else lingered here, watching him from a distance?

He told himself firmly he was only making himself nervous. Since he had left the train he had not sensed a single spirit and he knew he was extremely sensitive due to yesterday's events. But the silence and the cold seemed to blind his senses and more than once he glanced sideways only to see nothing there.

Maybe he should try to find that mp3 player that had to somewhere in his book bag, just to sooth his nerves. But his fingers were already too cold to grip the zipper of the bag, so trying to use such a small device was completely out of question.

Thus, he sighed in relief as after another ten minutes he saw first houses in the distance.

* * *

"I think we should hold the introduction for the clubs in the 2nd week of the new term." Okawa Haruki from class 2-4 suggested, repeating a suggestion he had already voiced an hour ago and Tezuka had to pull himself together not to groan.

Student council was discussing what would happen once the new term started – in other words, they were trying to figure out on what days to hold the elections for class representatives, introduce the school's clubs, offer tutoring, excursions, get-together meetings and everything else that mixed education with socializing.

"No, that's too soon." Oda Akiko from 2-7 protested. "The new students won't have settled in enough to bombard them with so much information. They'll not be able to make a well-thought out decision."

Tezuka rubbed his eyes.

He might have been student council president, but currently he was seriously questioning the importance of his presence, since he wouldn't even be at the school next term. Hardly any of the third-year representatives had bothered to come to this meeting anyway, and the few that where present had their faces hidden behind large textbooks.

Furthermore, experience had taught Tezuka that regardless of how long the discussion lasted this time around, all activities would be held on the same dates as the years before – not all dates were exceedingly practical, Oda was correct there, yet there was hardly any room for improvement.

"Distracted, chief?" The student council's vice president, Ishizu Ken, asked him in a whisper.

Tezuka felt the lines on his forehead deepen. There were exams waiting to be studied for and then there was Fuji and the question whether Tezuka could find a pretext under which to call his friend in order to assure he was alright.

A very odd sense of dread had filled his stomach ever since he had watched Fuji disappear down the corridor, the key to that distant house grasped firmly in his hand.

He wondered if Fuji still was on the train or had already arrived. And more importantly, whether he was alright.

* * *

Fuji sped up, hurried along the snow-topped stone wall and soon found himself standing in front of the familiar garden gate with a knot of tension in his stomach.

Just what had it been that had caused him to faint? Would it still be there?

The thoughts refused to be ignored any longer and Fuji swallowed. What if he opened this gate to encounter this ominous thing? What if he would faint out here in the cold?

Recalling a method his sister had taught him to sense spirits, Fuji closed his eyes and concentrated. Try as he might, he couldn't sense anything but the icy breeze caressing his skin. Then again, he wasn't his sister and in his experience this method worked only when he would have been able to sense the spirit anyway the moment it came only a step closer.

Fuji sighed. He was being paranoid, he told himself. It was quite fortunate Tezuka wasn't there to witness him acting like a scared chicken. His stunt yesterday had apparently made him appear weak enough to require special attention in his friend's eyes.

Not that he minded. He just wished it wasn't the sort of concern that stemmed from Tezuka's over-active sense of responsibility.

As he fumbled with the key, another thing caught his attention.

He hadn't noticed it yesterday, since Tezuka had stood in front of him then, but now he could make out faint engravings over the keyhole. They were far too well-hidden for being the maker's seal or any sort of popular good luck charm. And neither, Fuji realized as he studied them, were any words common for blessing buildings used.

He squinted, yet whoever had carved them had hidden them well - so well he couldn't make out more than three characters. Though those were enough.

Fuji bit his lip. This, he figured, was part of protective ward, supposed to keep all kinds of spirits from entering. Even though he did not know where the other cornerstones of the ward were places, he strongly suspected he would find them hidden along the garden wall as well.

_'They like telling me ghost stories_.' He recalled Tezuka saying.

Was there a possibility that the Nakayamas hadn't only been telling stories?

Tentatively Fuji slid off a glove and brushed his fingers over the carvings. There was nothing, his senses told him, and the tell-tale tingle that always ran down his back when he touched any kind of ward was missing.

Strange, Fuji thought and unlocked the door with numb fingers. Maybe the ward hadn't been completed, or the door had originally come from somewhere else.

Or the ward had been broken.

Fuji shook his head. Protective wards like this were as strong as they were simple, making them extremely hard to destroy. Furthermore, a conscious breaking of wards required a motive even stronger than robbery did – and he hadn't sensed anything extraordinary about this house that would attract spirits.

Nor were there any around, Fuji noted as he pushed open the door and stepped into the garden. The atmosphere inside felt no different than yesterday, so he shrugged his odd premonition off and followed the small footpath leading around the house and up the front door.

From time to time he gazed curiously at the wall, but didn't find any further cornerstones – though those might have been hidden behind pine trees, willows and ivy. Maybe that door, like the collection of oddities inside, had been discovered somewhere far away and merely been brought to this place.

Only when Fuji saw the front gate in the distance he contemplated walking over to have a closer look – but it was too cold to go searching for the fix points of a dysfunctional ward when all he wanted was to collect his ID and return to Tokyo. His fingers were so cold he could sense a faint pain underneath the numbness, telling him to go inside if he wanted to regain use of his hands at some point tonight.

With few long steps he crossed the last metres, unlocked the door and finally found himself inside.

* * *

"Seeing as we probably won't be able to agree on a fixed date on today's meeting." Ishizu was saying and Tezuka raised an eyebrow. "I'd suggest we adjourn for today and before our next meeting consult with principal concerning the dates."

While some frowned the vast majority agreed quickly. Many of them had exams to study for and every minute not wasted on discussions meant a minute more of free time. Tezuka, too, could feel relief cursing through his veins as people started packing.

"Is it a date?" Ishizu abruptly asked him and waved upon seeing Tezuka's stony expression. "Just wondering. You were distracted and seem in a hurry to leave…"

* * *

A sigh of relief left Fuji's lips as the lights flickered on and warmth flooded his body. His eyes roamed over familiar photographs; the couple, the old lady with her cat, a very young Tezuka – he wondered if he could get a copy of that picture.

Their tennis captain looked quite different as a wide-eyed six-year old wearing large glasses and even though his features already formed his typical frown, Fuji found the childish curiosity easy to recognize.

With a slight smile Fuji slipped off his shoes, set down his bag and made his way down the corridor. Dimly he wondered what Tezuka was doing currently – if he still was caught up with student council matters or whether he had been able make his way home by now. He much hoped it was the later – Tezuka had enough on his plate without the student council practically incapable to function without him.

Carefully he opened the door to the living room and switched on the lights. Nothing had changed since they left yesterday – his student ID wasn't in sight either.

Fuji sighed. It probably had fallen underneath the couch or one of the cupboards; otherwise either he or Tezuka would have noticed it last night.

He crossed the room, over to the spot in front of the glass door leading out to the backyard and crouched down. As he had feared, there was no trace of his student ID to be found anywhere. With another sigh he bent down and tried to peer underneath the furniture.

Fuji was quite certain the small item must have fallen from his pocket when he had fainted yesterday, thus it had to be somewhere within the room. He could only hope it hadn't disappeared into the farthest corner under the couch.

Bringing his face level with the ground he had to stifle a shudder as cold air brushed his face. Even though the door to the backyard was closed, the frost could be felt through two layers of glass. The little light remaining outside did little to help his search and he had to wait a moment until his eyes adjusted.

The air remained still around him and finally Fuji caught sight of a small case underneath a drawer on his right. He reached out carefully.

His fingers accidentally brushed against the drawer – and a shiver ran down his spine.

* * *

Tezuka frowned as he glanced at the overcast sky. The logical part of his mind told him to go home and study; the other part was worried about Fuji.

In the back of his head he realized his concern for Fuji was reaching absurd heights; Fuji was quite capable of watching out for himself. The fainting spell yesterday had been an exception – and exactly because it had not happened before Tezuka found himself abruptly paying twice as much attention to his friend.

With a sigh he flipped open his cell phone and dialled the familiar number. He wasn't quite sure what he would say to Fuji once the other picked up, but checking up on him this way was probably for the best. Even the rational part of his brain would not deny making sure ones friends were safe and sound made merely a natural action.

Yet he couldn't help feeling slightly unhappy with himself for being so uncharacteristically worried.

* * *

The sensation disappeared fast the moment he realized Fuji wasn't picking up. There might have been many reasons involved, but when Fuji also failed to answer the call ten minutes later Tezuka firmly pressed his lips together and directed his steps toward the next train station.

Fuji blinked. Instead of reaching out for his ID, he consciously touched the drawer and the sensation repeated itself.

Obviously, this piece of furniture was part of another ward – an active one. This, in turn indicated, that the ward in the garden was not dysfunctional.

It had been breached.

Fuji bit his lower lip. Having wards around the premise of old houses was nothing unusual – back in the day when people had been more inclined to believe in the supernatural, setting up a protective barrier had been one of the first things to be done after the house had been build.

Even Tezuka's house was warded, which had been a source of amusement for Fuji every now and then – the young captain was so unwilling to believe into anything paranormal, yet he had actually grown up surrounded by it.

Still, two sets of wards were highly unusual. Especially since the inner set apparently was not a relic of former inhabitants, but had been consciously placed.

Fuji thoughtfully gazed across the room and found his eyes attracted by the corner filled with a collection of odd knickknacks. Souvenirs from travels, Tezuka had said and Fuji hadn't paid them further attention. But now upon closer inspection, he couldn't help notice that the vast majority of said objects either depicted spiritual or religious places or were actual items.

Surely, at every religious site turned tourist attraction one could purchase such items in over-priced souvenir shops, yet Fuji couldn't shake the suspicion those weren't normal souvenirs. People who intentionally surrounded their house by two sets of wards did not accidentally buy religious objects on vacation.

Fuji shuddered. Either this was all by chance – the door bearing an ancient inscription outside a part of the eccentric collection and the wards inside set on purpose by the current of former owners in order to keep spirits out.

Or there was something hidden in this house that required special protection. And if it already required two sets or wards – he did not want imagine what kind of object met the specifications. Or what kind of spirit would be interested.

Maybe the wards had shocked him into fainting the day before? It hadn't happened before and was unlike to have been the sole cause, but at least it explained why the darkness hadn't felt natural.

Carefully Fuji reached out to touch the drawer again.

And stopped abruptly.

_tbc_

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Hope you enjoyed reading and please feel free to share your impressions with me.


	4. Chapter 4

**What Should Have Never Been Found**

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**Warnings:** About none for this chapter, though the fic is going to become bloody and (if I manage to convey it) scary. ^^

**Characters: **Tezuka, Fuji. (Friendshipp-y). Rest of Seigaku makes random appearances.

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

_Thank you very much for the reviews! There's no better inspiration than knowing people out there are reading this! ^___^ _

Without further ado, enjoy

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_Four_

Something was directly behind him; just on the other side of the glass pane.

Fuji felt the blood in his veins turn to ice. Then the power erupted.

The room seemed to be shrinking – lights flickered, shadows lengthened, darkness crawled out of corners and Fuji's heart stopped. Reality shattered in front of his eyes as he could practically feel the space rippling and bending and there was nothing he could do but watch in frozen horrification.

And pray the wards would hold.

The window pane trembled.

This power was beyond incredible – intoxicating, fearsome, awe-inspiring, mind-numbing at the same time; an endless abyss of all-encompassing darkness that the physical word had to submit to. Whatever it was out there, wherever it had come from – Fuji had never encountered a spirit strong enough to compare.

Had this been…

Fuji's eyes widened. This power – had it been here last night as well?

Had he really opened that door the split second this spirit had attempted to destroy the wards?

Darkness flickered at the edges of his vision, breathing turned difficult and every fibre within his body that was fine-tuned to sensing spiritual presences screeched in alarm. Ordinary spirits did not feel like this – something was horribly, horribly wrong.

The wards trembled.

Fuji didn't dare to move. If this thing, whatever it was, noticed him – or worse, if it was to notice he could sense it – there was no telling of what would happen.

He held his breath. The wards couldn't break.

Never in all times had this kind of ancient, fundamental barrier been broken by sheer power alone. Whenever protective wards failed treachery or trickery had played a part. Fuji did not even to dare imagining the implications should this thing succeed at the impossible.

A sudden shudder ran through the air and then the light returned.

Fuji felt the power weakening, retreating – should luck be on his side and the thing outside draw back? Or was this merely a pause before a second attack?

He shouldn't be scared, he told himself. As long as he remained inside the wards the thing outside couldn't harm him.

Still, he sighed in relief when everything remained silent. The living room had returned to its warm, golden light and slowly Fuji felt the tension drain from his body. At least Tezuka hadn't been around this time, he resumed with a dry smile – the tennis captain might not have taken to well to being informed a mysterious power was trying to demolish a just as mystical set of wards.

He wouldn't believe that story himself, if anybody else told him.

With a deep breath he reached out again and collected his ID card. Wearily he gazed out into the garden. Night had not yet completely fallen – yet the light that remained was scarce and whatever had been there had vanished without a trace.

The snow cover outside had not been disturbed. No foot prints, no reminders that any being had entered the garden within days were to be found.

Fuji shuddered. This little interlude had offered him an insight on what had transpired yesterday. But it was not a pleasant explanation, since it raised far greater concerns.

What kind of a spirit – if a spirit at all – wielded such power? And what was it after, that it sought to gain entry to this building so desperately? Would it mean harm to the human inhabitants?

If his assumption was correct, and he truly had met said spirit head-on yesterday, then the mere fact that he had walked from the encounter with little more than a scare was a good omen. Yet Fuji felt reluctant to believe – beings this powerful rarely cared for human concerns.

Fuji swallowed, trying to calm his palpitating heart and forcing himself to address the situation at hand. He was safe inside, but he needed to leave this house at some point of time. And seeing just how skilled that thing had been at concealing his power, Fuji doubted his meagre abilities to sense the supernatural would help him any, should he run into the spirit a second time.

He'd been immensely lucky yesterday.

With a long sigh he sank back against the armchair, his student ID clutched in limp fingers.

If he couldn't tell it was gone, if he couldn't even tell whether it had noted his presence, if he couldn't tell its aim – then he couldn't predict what would happen the moment he set a foot outside the door.

Maybe nothing would occur – the spirit appeared concerned with breaking the wards and not interested in human residents. But then again Fuji was only too familiar with the simplest way to breach wards.

Invitation by a human.

It remained questionable whether this spirit knew about that method as well.

Fuji closed his eyes for a moment and let his head slump forward. Cold air tingled on his cheeks, creeping in through the window and reminding him that he could not stay here.

He wondered whether he should try his luck or prepare some emergency plan should that thing attack him – though when he tried to recall what his sister had taught him, he realized he only ever adapted the basics since at that time he'd vastly preferred tennis magazines over odd books that made no sense half of the time.

Probably the Nakayamas had books holding deeper knowledge anywhere in this house. Maybe there was even something useful in plain sight – but while Fuji wasn't incapable of recognizing this kind of items, he had no idea how to use them.

In all honesty, he had never expected to find himself in such a situation. Spirits tended avoid humans and rarely approached them with will intent. Furthermore, spirits were not supposed to be so powerful.

Even if there was something he knew how to use, he'd hardly be able to stand up to this spirit. Taking his chances with slipping out undetected probably made for the better alternative.

Fuji opened his eyes and wearily stood up. It was time to go.

* * *

Tezuka couldn't help feeling foolish as he made his way through the snow. The closer he got to his destination, the louder his mind kept insisting he had made the journey for nothing. Fuji would merely raise a questioning eyebrow at him and they'd sit in awkward silence through the three-hour trip back to Tokyo.

That was if he and Fuji hadn't missed each other. Depending on how fast Fuji had been gotten here, there was a chance Fuji was already sitting on a train back home while he was only making his way to the house.

A cold gust of wind tore through the trees and Tezuka shivered involuntarily. Temperatures had started falling with the onset of night and the clouds promised new snow. Dimly he wondered what he ought to do if the weather continued growing colder – even now his black coat barely kept him warm enough.

Finally the trees parted in front of him and he stepped out on the silent road lined by large houses. Behind the wall on his left he could barely make out the roof of the Nakayamas' home – and with a small sigh he realised he would have to take the long way up to the front entrance.

Fuji would be quite surprised to see him there, Tezuka conceded. Hopefully his friend wouldn't take this as an implicit expression of distrust, since Tezuka had not yet found a good way to tell Fuji he had been worried.

For a moment Tezuka wondered whether there wasn't still a subtle way of checking up on Fuji without the other noticing. But nothing short of hiding behind a bush on the other side of the street and wait for Fuji to exit came to his mind – and it was far too cold for this.

Now that the main gate to the house was already in sight, he squared his shoulders and continued forward. Snowflakes began drifting down again.

He could feel the cold emanating from the iron through his gloves as he pushed open the old gate. The house in front of him appeared uninhabited, abandoned. The landscape around him remained silent; the majority of the vegetation had been hidden underneath a thick layer of snow.

Maybe he and Fuji had really missed each other.

It would save him many awkward explanations, though his own worries would be left unaddressed. He wasn't quite sure which alternative he preferred – as he was out here already however, it would be foolish to turn around now.

Tezuka pressed the bell.

* * *

Fuji jumped when the ring of the bell tore through the silence.

The sound echoed eerily in his head and his heart pounded loudly, yet with a firm shake of his head he admonished himself for being exceedingly nervous. Probably a neighbour or a delivery man.

With a sigh Fuji crossed the corridor, leaving his coat behind. He almost hesitated before grasping the handle – his presence here might require some awkward explanations – but then opened the door.

His eyes widened as he recognized the person standing outside.

Tezuka's expression betrayed nothing and Fuji barely managed to suppress the confusion from showing on his own face. For the moment the freezing air had been forgotten.

"Tezuka." He greeted and only his intonation betrayed his surprise.

A small wrinkle formed between Tezuka's eyebrows as Seigaku's captain once again remembered that he had no explanation to offer for his presence. He swallowed and collected himself.

"Do you need the keys back tonight already?" Fuji questioned. "You could have just called me then, I would have dropped them off at your place once I..."

"You didn't pick up your phone." Tezuka evenly replied, relieved at not having to address the reason for his visit.

He had been deeply worried when Fuji failed to answer.

"Oh." Fuji's shoulders dropped. "Sorry, I guess I forgot to turn off the silent mode after class. You should have just phoned my home number – but instead of standing in the cold, come..."

Fuji had almost missed the movement.

He trailed off and confused Tezuka followed his eyes. There, beside his feet sat a small, black cat.

Wide golden eyes beseechingly gazed up at the two of them. Tezuka's brows furrowed – he hadn't even noticed the animal approach.

And …

His eyes caught sight of a green collar and in the back of his mind something clicked.

"It probably wants ..." He started, attempting to reason things out just as Fuji abruptly grabbed hold of his arm.

"Tezuka! Get away!" His friend screamed, Tezuka's mind froze and he could only watch in horrified fascination as the cat's eyes changed – though it were not only the eyes, something else was changing as well, something he couldn't understand or see – but feel and an inexplicable, deep-sated fear spread through his entire being.

Midnight black, flawless white and bottomless gold blurred before his eyes.

Fuji jerked him forward, Tezuka stumbled – then the cat pounced; sharp claws ripping easily through the sleeve of Fuji's school shirt. He saw his friend's face twist in pain, felt the claws ghost over his own arm. Abruptly he was off balance, Fuji's hand gone from his arm, the scenery in front of his eyes tilted as he fell backwards.

For a split second he could not tell up from down, the world had become a maelstrom of madly spinning colours and sounds barely reached his ears, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Somewhere, something – his mind was nothing but scattered fragments, logic eluded him and only when his back hit the snow-covered ground with a dull thud reality appeared restored.

Mindlessly he stared at the grey sky overhead, his view broken only by the black silhouettes of trees. A snowflake landed on his cheek and melted instantly.

It felt like an eternity before he gathered himself, though it had not even been a minute. His heart was racing, he realized, and even though his was lying in the snow he couldn't even feel the cold.

Footsteps reached his ears and Fuji appeared in his vision.

"Tezuka?" Fuji called out, worry written all over his features. "Tezuka, are you okay?"

Tezuka blinked. Confusion assaulted his mind as Fuji dropped to his knees beside him. Hadn't they just been standing at the door, talking? Everything after that had happened so fast it seemed completely surreal.

"Tezuka, say something!" Fuji pleaded and reached for him, unmindful of the blood that ran down his arm. For a moment the colours blurred once more in front of Tezuka's eyes – white, red, black – but a shake of his head and the nightmarish vision receded.

Instead of answering Tezuka slowly pushed himself up, his mind awash with unanswered questions. Yet as the excitement drained away he started to notice the cold.

"We should get inside." He announced, though he felt dizzy. Too many things demanded his attention – Fuji's injury, that odd cat, the snow soaking through his coat – and this confusion threatened to impair his ability to act.

Fuji, obviously relieved, nodded and said nothing as Tezuka needed a moment longer to climb to his feet. Together they made their way inside and only after Fuji had closed the door behind them Tezuka broke the silence.

"You should take care of that." He pointed to the still-bleeding scratches on Fuji's arm, ignoring the unanswered questions that hung heavily in the air.

"And should get out of that coat at least." Fuji replied, pulling off his now utterly-soaked socks. Tension slowly drained from his body and he hoped his legs wouldn't give out before he reached the living room. The short encounter had left his blood frozen, and recalling Tezuka lying motionlessly in the snow, he couldn't help shuddering.

That cat ...

Even he wasn't entirely sure what exactly had transpired – and even though there probably existed a logical explanation for this – chalking this up to chance was impossible.

Something very, very twisted was at work here.

"There should be a first-aid kit in the bathroom." Tezuka stated, taking off his shoes and frowning at his pants. While his shirt had stayed dry, his pants were quite soaked where they had come into direct contact with the snow.

Fuji nodded and followed Tezuka toward the bathroom. The scratches were starting to burn and his school shirt was probably ruined, so he simply pressed his injuries close to his chest in order to avoid dripping blood on the floor.

Tezuka quickly turned up the heating as far as possible, grateful that Nakayama xxx had insisted on a floor heating for the bathroom. He simply spread his coat on the floor – hoping that would suffice to dry it – before turning to Fuji.

"You should probably take off your pants as well." Fuji advised from where he sat on the edge of the bathtub.

Tezuka nodded. "Yes, but we should probably dress those scratches first."

Fuji glimpsed down at his arm, but Tezuka had already procured a first aid kit from one of the drawers. Silently he sat down beside Fuji and the other obediently held out his arm. The sleeve of his shirt was tattered, blood-soaked – Tezuka had to swallow and concentrate on cleaning the injury.

He couldn't help glancing at his friend from the corner of his eye. Fuji was pale and Tezuka couldn't help feeling worried. If Fuji hadn't pushed him the cat might have gotten to his face.

The surprise attack had left him far more shocked than he ought to be, the reasonable side of his mind chided him. That cat had probably been half-starved or out in the cold for too long and had perceived him as a threat.

That was logical. Yet it did not explain why the cat had actually stopped to attack them. If it had been looking for shelter and food, it should have simply proceeded inside the house – Tezuka couldn't help but wonder.

Then again, this kind of weather was probably reason enough for any living being to loose its bearings. With a light shake of his head, he dismissed that train of thought and turned back to the task at hand.

The scratches on Fuji's arm, it turned out, thankfully weren't deep and would probably heal well enough on their own. Tezuka still proceeded to bandage them, before turning back to the issue concerning his soaked pants.

"Thank you." Fuji nodded and glanced down at himself. "I probably shouldn't take off my jacket anytime tonight. People will think I killed somebody..."

The corners of Tezuka's mouth twitched and Fuji mustered a light smile before leaving the bathroom. "I'm going to make some tea; you get out of those wet clothes meanwhile."

Without waiting for a reaction from Tezuka Fuji vanished from the bathroom, closing the door to give his friend privacy. The smile disappeared from Fuji's lips the moment he turned his head, glancing down the corridor towards the door.

Checking the scene outside again would not reveal anything new. Fuji knew what he had seen well enough. His senses might have been too startled to catch on at that time, but –

There was no denying the lack of any paw-shaped footprints in the snow outside.

_tbc_

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_Please feel free to share ideas, thoughts and impressions with me. That said, a Happy New Year to everybody reading!  
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	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **PoT isn't mine. I just borrowed the characters.

**Thank you very much** for the lovely reviews. Those make me a very, very happy person. :-)

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_Five_

Tezuka sat down in the living room a few minutes later, feeling quite awkward since he had had to replace his pants with a fluffy, white towel. Hopefully the floor heating in the bathroom would get them dry quickly, since making the long trip home in wet clothes was probably the best way to catch a cold. And he wouldn't be surprised, he surmised as he sank a little deeper into the cushions, if he had caught a cold already.

Outside darkness had fallen completely. He couldn't see anything through the large window facing the garden, only his own reflection starred back at him. Fuji soon joined him, carrying two steaming mugs. A faint smile crossed his pale face at Tezuka's odd outfit, but it soon morphed into his usual smile.

"There should be a blanket beside the couch." He told Tezuka, while he walked over to the window, took a look out into the garden and then drew the curtains close. The utter blackness had been gnawing on his nerves ever since he had set a foot into this house and he just couldn't calm down as long as he didn't know what might be lurking out there.

His first impression had turned out to be dead on; just when he had hoped for nothing more than to be wrong. Something was happening on the premise of this building and they had already come into far too close contact. Not only once, but twice.

And next time it might not just be a cat…

Fuji shook his head and dropped down beside Tezuka, who'd wrapped the blanket around himself and for a moment Fuji wondered, whether they couldn't just wait here until the sun rose again. It would be easy to curl up here, yet …

The wards ought to hold.

But that thing had been terrifyingly powerful.

"Does it hurt?" Tezuka suddenly inquired, glancing at Fuji's bandaged arm.

Fuji shook his head, attempting to cast off his dark contemplations for the time being. "Not really. Those were only scratches after all."

Tezuka nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you for pushing me away, though. I had no idea that cat was going to attack."

Fuji swallowed and kept his eyes fixed on his teacup. If he had to answer honestly, he hadn't expected it to attack either – only the moment he had laid eyes on the creature, something in the back of his mind had started screaming.

There hadn't been enough time for him to figure out what exactly it had been.

Things had happened too fast.

But the lack of footprints – a shudder ran down his spine.

"Though that cat did act quite strange." Tezuka abruptly said, voicing his own contemplations. "I had expected it to rush inside – it was probably cold and hungry."

Fuji nodded silently.

Tezuka pursed his lips. As bizarre as those events had been, there surely was a logical explanation. "Maybe the cat perceived us to be some sort of a danger to itself." He reasoned, thankful his voice came out steady.

It was the only rational deduction.

Yet ...

Some deep, irrational part of his heart urged him to remain suspicious. And watch Fuji closely.

"Yes." Fuji replied eventually and Tezuka couldn't help thinking his friend appeared less then convinced. He did not like the haunted expression that lingered on Fuji's face – and not for the first time in his life he wished he could inquire directly without having to find a pretext to hide his concern behind.

"Say, Tezuka." Fuji broke the quiet after a couple of minutes, starring into his teacup. "Have you seen that cat before?"

Tezuka blinked.

"No." He answered, though on the inside he wasn't certain. A shudder ran down his spine. He had seen a black cat like this before, but …

Fuji tilted his head and glanced over at his friend. "Didn't the late Mori-san have a cat?"

So Fuji had remembered the picture in the entrance hall. "She had." He said, and then confirmed. "It was a black one, just like the one we saw outside."

And that wasn't the only similarity.

Tezuka violently pushed that absurd thought out of his mind. "It died in autumn this year."

Fuji turned to him and for a split second their eyes met. Tezuka found the irrational ideas that plagued him mirrored in Fuji's eyes, ye before his mind could consider the impossible he averted his gaze.

Now was not the time to start believing in the occult.

Not when the darkness outside might just ...

Tezuka pursed his lips. The encounter with the cat must have shaken him more deeply than he admitted to himself – there was no other explanation for the delusions his mind had suddenly begun to entertain. He took a sip of his tea and it burned his tongue.

Fuji didn't notice the grimace crossing Tezuka's face since his eyes were fixed on the collection of knickknacks on the shelf on the other side of the room. In the back of his had an idea had started forming – yet he dreaded connecting the dots.

"Maybe the cat came from somewhere else." Fuji thoughtfully whispered and with Tezuka starring at his hands he never saw Fuji's lips twist into an ironic smile.

Instead he reasoned to himself that having been out in the cold for so long and without food as well was more than reason for any animal to turn ferocious. Perhaps it was merely the atmosphere, the absolute silence outside, that made him nervous.

Once they had gotten back to Tokyo, this would be nothing but a distant memory.

"Tezuka." Fuji broke the heavy silence. "You mentioned Nakayama-san was an archaeologist, didn't you? Do you know what he specialized in?"

Tezuka glanced up, thankful for the change of the subject. "Early history, I believe. With a focus on ritualistic objects and the likes."

"I thought so. That collection is quite fascinating." Fuji commented, clutching the warm tea cup closer to his chest.

Tezuka glanced over to the familiar shelf. "You would like the library upstairs then." He replied with a faint smile. "I never understood much of it, but I was told they own the largest collection of books on the occult in this area."

"My sister would have a field day." Fuji chuckled. Tezuka turned to his friend and realized that while Fuji's tone sounded light, tension remained in his posture.

Unconsciously Tezuka tightened the blankets around himself. The warmth was lulling him to relax, yet his mind warned him not to let his guard down.

"Their collection is quite interesting." Tezuka said, because for some reason he couldn't figure out he didn't want the conversation to wither. "It's not quite my subject, but there are some interesting books up there. As well as some valuable objects."

Fuji straightened, curiosity piqued. "What kind of objects?"

On the inside he shivered. Ritualistic objects – he swallowed.

If any object of this collection had sufficient value to attract powerful spirits he didn't want to know what it was. Further knowledge was bound to drag him deeper into this affair – yet if Tezuka already knew there was a high chance his friend was in danger.

Fuji pressed his lips together.

He did not want to get involved with this. Dealings with the supernatural rarely ended in favour for the human party concerned. But he couldn't leave Tezuka exposed to such a threat without any means of defence.

"Various." Tezuka calmly answered; completely unaware of what Fuji was thinking. Instead he was trying to recall what the Nakayamas had shown him - even though he never had much concerned himself with the explanations. "Many are mythical or religious objects – sacred stones, voodoo dolls, paintings. They even used to keep some smaller statues in the cellar, though I believe they have donated those to a museum."

Fuji nodded thoughtfully.

Tezuka could practically see the cogwheels turning in his friend's head and with pursed lips he hoped Fuji would share his thoughts. Whatever his friend was contemplating, it obviously worried him and Tezuka wanted nothing more than to offer help.

After all, how often had Fuji supported him with well-meant advice without him even having to ask for it? How often had Fuji supported his decisions when even Oishi had been sceptic?

Until now this had been one-sided, though Tezuka wanted to return the favour. Especially now, that Fuji looked so lost in that blood-streaked shirt with an unusually serious expression on his face.

It was an unpleasant reminder that the smiling face Fuji greeted everybody with was probably nothing but a facade. And he could only wonder at what has happening behind that front.

"Was there any special object?" Fuji questioned and upon seeing Tezuka's furrowed brows he lightly added: "Was there anything that caught your attention?"

There was simply no way of asking for an object of value without letting Tezuka notice his motives were more than plain curiosity, and even this question already made his friend raise an eyebrow.

Fuji smiled. "I mean, because it was ... sparkly or huge or just weird? Anything like that in the collection?"

"More than enough." Tezuka grumbled, recalling how at his twelfth birthday he had realized the wooden toys he had been playing with at the age of five were actual African fertility statues and not just oddly shaped dolls.

He decided not to share that particular memory. "Well, they had some antique crosses with gemstones and quite a valuable set of rings from India. There were also some ritual daggers and a few swords, but Nakayama-san always used to say their books were more valuable than the entire collection."

Fuji's smile turned grim.

The Nakayamas had truly understood their job. Some objects out there were worthless – if one lacked instructions on how to use them.

"That sounds like quite a lot." Fuji replied, keeping his thoughts to himself. "I think I'd have preferred that to the pendulums and pentagrams my sister used to occupy herself with when I was younger."

Tezuka caught the dry smile on Fuji's lips and shrugged his shoulders. "I believe I would have as well."

Fuji Yumiko was a formidable woman, Tezuka knew all-too-well. And he had little doubt she had just been as frighteningly impressive as a fifteen-year old wearing a school uniform. Where Fuji smiled innocently, Fuji Yumiko had a smile that made one's blood run cold.

"Anyways, when does the last train leave?" Fuji asked, interrupting Tezuka's thoughts.

Tezuka glanced at his watch. "There's still some time. But we could try to catch the next one as well – that leaves in 45 minutes and we would be home just a little after midnight."

"Unless we splurge and switch to the Shinkansen." Fuji added and frowned. "If your pants aren't dry we should wait a little longer."

Tezuka shook his head. "They should have dried by now. How is your injury?"

Fuji glanced back to his bandaged arm. The red on his shirt had started turning brown and while he couldn't feel the wound he longed for a change of clothes. And directly after that he would fall into his bed and sleep a long, long time in order to forget everything that had happened tonight.

Once they arrived home there was no reason for them to return to this place.

Once they were home their involvement in this affair was over.

"Fine, thank you." Fuji replied. "How about I wash up while you check on your pants?"

Tezuka nodded silently and they both stood up – reluctant to leave the warm room, yet eager to return to Tokyo.

* * *

The moment Fuji opened the front door a gust of ice-cold wind hit them head on. Small snowflakes fluttered around them, melting as soon as they touched the ground, yet he had to squint to make out the garden wall.

"Nasty weather." Fuji muttered, pulled his scarf up and stepped outside. Freezing air assaulted his cheeks instantly and Tezuka could tell temperatures had dropped further. The street lanterns were barely visible through all the snow and the rational side of his mind wondered whether setting out in this weather was safe.

Should the snowfall grow worse they might lose sight of the path.

And then...

Tezuka shook his head and followed Fuji outside. All sounds were swallowed by the howling wind, the snow muffled what might have remained and the darkness appeared twice as impenetrable.

Fuji frowned, peering into the night while Tezuka turned off the lights in the house. He could barely see the trees, and the madly dancing snowflakes confounded his eyes. Nervousness coiled in his stomach – he wouldn't be able to detect movement from the corner of his eye under this conditions.

Nor would he be able to sense anything when cold was all he could feel.

Meanwhile Tezuka cast one last glance over the entrance hall. All shoes and slippers stood at their supposed places, none of the pictures were out of order – he pressed his lips together.

He had consciously avoided looking at the pictures.

Now he couldn't help it.

The cat Mori-san held on her arm was black, just as the one that had attacked them had been. A beautiful animal with soft fur, tame and very attuned to its proprietor. Nobody had been too surprised when the two of them had died shortly after another.

Tezuka squinted, only to discover what he already knew.

The black cat on the photograph was wearing a jade-green collar. And even though he'd only glimpsed it for a second, he was quite certain the cat that had attacked them had worn one as well.

... it made no sense.

How many black cats in this country had green collars? How many of them did look just like one of late Mori-san? Tezuka did not need to consult Inui to know chances weren't high.

And yet there was no sane alternative.

Tezuka shuddered.

Then he decisively shook his head and told himself to think no more of it. Tomorrow, once the sun had risen and the excitement had worn off, he would be able to make sense of today's events. Now his priority was getting Fuji and himself home as quick as possible.

* * *

The following morning started out little better than the previous day had ended. While the snowfall had lessened, many roads were blocked and traffic moved at a snail's pace. Since temperatures had fallen further, clearing roads became more and more difficult - a small puddle of water would be frozen within half an hour if left undisturbed and the snow kept piling up.

Tezuka met Fuji at a pedestrian crossing on the way to school and was granted a tired smile as a greeting. Fuji looked like Tezuka felt – tired, cold and exhausted. They had eventually decided to pay more and take the Shinkansen last night, but it still had been midnight until Tezuka had gotten home.

And the moment he'd woken today his throat had been sore. He'd contemplated staying home – his mother had even suggested it at the breakfast table – yet in the end there were too many matters he had to take care of.

Fuji beside him stifled a cough behind a gloved hand and Tezuka raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Nothing much." Fuji replied with a rare, honest smile. He might have felt tired enough to actually plan on cutting classes in order to sleep, but the nervousness had drained out of his body. The trek from the house to the station last night had been hell – more than once he had believed to see somebody following them, only to find the snow had been playing tricks on his mind.

His nerves had been frayed when they had eventually reached the train station and he'd practically dropped dead the moment they had sat down in the train bound for home.

But now that he had his student ID back he could just forget about everything that had happened.

From today on whatever happened at a remote house near Nikko no longer concerned him.

That madness was over.

Fuji drew a deep breath and dispelled the last lingering thoughts pertaining to that spirit – right now he had upcoming exams to worry about.

Few people lingered in front of the school building. It partly due to the fact that they were early and almost all clubs were on pause due to either exams or the weather. Furthermore, Fuji surmised, the freezing cold wind that made him shudder might have provided a good reason to hurry inside.

"It's quiet." Fuji remarked.

Tezuka tilted his head. "That's good." He replied and Fuji chuckled. Trust Tezuka to prefer silence to the usual cacophony of excited chatter and giggling.

"How very much..." Fuji forgot what he wanted to say the moment they entered the school building.

Tension hung thick in the air, all chatter was subdued. Groups had converged in corners, while other students silently hurried past and for some reason Fuji felt as if everybody was starring at them. For a second a frown crossed Tezuka's face, but it was gone too fast for anybody to notice.

Did he hear somebody sobbing?

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "Did anything happen?" He wondered while they made their way to the lockers.

The hallway was atypically crowded, filled with raised voices and sobs. Various ideas of what might have occurred filled Tezuka's mind and none of them bode well. Probably some frustrated student had vented his anger by leaving graffiti all over the lockers of his antagonists - a method as popular as stupid.

A girl hurried past them, her face green.

Carefully he pushed his way through the crowd, glad his authority made other students step back automatically, while Fuji stayed behind him. Shortly before he turned the corner, a familiar voice called out to them.

"Fuji, Tezuka!" Kikumaru Eiji was waving, but his cheerfulness had vanished this morning. Instead his face was ashen and his voice sounded unusually serious. Dread coiled in Tezuka's stomach.

Fuji turned to his classmate, a question on his lips, but Tezuka wanted to find out what exactly had happened first.

Eiji's eyes widened. "You shouldn't..."

Tezuka rounded the corner, the crowd parted –

And then there was blood.

_tbc_

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_Please feel free to share your thoughts, impressions and ideas with me. Criticism is also welcome ^_~  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Thank you a thousand times for the lovely reviews. Knowing somebody out there enjoys reading what my brain cooks up makes me very, very happy (and it's always good to know you're not alone with those ideas on the planet ^^). Thank you very much and I hope you enjoy the next chapter as well!**

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_Six_

Bright red liquid was dripping down the lockers, forming dark puddles on the floor. Tezuka's stomach twisted.

For a moment all noises faded and nothing but the carnage in front of him existed. He never even noticed a girl push past him, bolting for the next toilet, heard neither Fuji's soft gasp nor the teachers' frantic orders for all students to clear the area.

It wasn't only blood. There were ... things mixed in there, pieces of flesh, something that looked like it once had been collar, patches of fur, muscle and organs that had never been supposed to see daylight. One of the lockers had been wrenched open violently - the metal was twisted and bent, the books inside torn, loose pages scattered on the floor, drenched in red.

And balanced precariously on the door of said locker was a cat's severed head.

Tezuka's heart missed a beat.

There was still blood dripping from it, almost brown by now, mingling with other hideous fluids and patches of fur. The black fur was damp, rotten and had been torn away at places, revealing greyish skin or dark red flesh and muscle. He couldn't see it clearly, but there were bugs moving beneath the skin. The few flies that had survived the icy season up to now started attacking the raw flesh with vigour.

He only dimly heard the sobs and screeches or saw the green-tinted faces. An ear seemed to be missing from the head and one of the eyeballs had popped out and was dangling downward, attached to the head by just strands of nerves and blood vessels.

An unbearable stench attacked his senses. Tezuka felt his insides churn, just as his mind made a far more horrid observation.

The locker was Fuji's.

Within a split second his mind raced through thousands of possibilities – was this on purpose, what was the motive, was there a motive, how was Fuji feeling – he hadn't actually paid the least bit of attention to Fuji's reaction ever since he'd laid eyes on this scene of carnage. Guilt welled up on his chest, blurring with confusion and a foreign sensation of helplessness – yet before he could turn to at least look at his friend, the locker's door moved.

Metal groaned, gravity pulled and with a thick, wet thud the head hit the floor. Foul liquids scattered, the smell worsened drastically - somebody screamed and one of the teachers looked about to be sick, yet Tezuka barely noticed what happened around him.

Horror bound his eyes to now unrecognizable lump of fur, flesh and bones. His entire body had frozen and all he could do was watch that one eyeball roll away from the head's remains, leaving a trail of rust-coloured liquid.

The pupil was gold.

Something in the back of Tezuka's mind clicked. Unconsciously his eyes glanced back toward the lockers, but before he realized just what he was looking for he reminded himself to keep his act together – and help Fuji.

He'd been staring for far too long already.

Tezuka snapped into action, turned on his heel and took one look at his friend's widened eyes and paper-white complexion. Decisively he grasped Fuji's upper arm and proceeded to drag him away from the gory spectacle.

Fuji stumbled, barely even aware of the tight grip Tezuka had on his arm, unable to tear his eyes away. The scene had been burned onto the back of his eyelids, before Tezuka had finally steered him out of the corridor and into an empty classroom.

With a flinch Fuji returned to the here and now when Tezuka loudly shut the door behind them. The world was spinning and only when Tezuka's fingers tightened to a painful degree, Fuji remembered how to breathe.

"Sit down." Tezuka ordered, pushing Fuji onto the next best chair.

He had to take a deep breath to calm himself and disperse the last vestiges of the putrid smell from his nose. Fuji turned shaken eyes up to meet Tezuka's, while Tezuka searched for the right words.

"Are you okay?" Tezuka inquired, eyeing his friend critically.

Fuji flexed his fingers, stifled a cough and sighed. "I guess."

There was no need to mention that both of them had been shocked by the sight and Tezuka almost regretted asking. But when the silence stretched out and his mind began replaying the images, he posed the next question that came to his mind.

"Do you ... know who might have done this?" Tezuka asked hesitatingly. The wheels in his mind had started moving – but they brought naught but new confusion. And while he wasn't sure whether it was due to the stench a very odd, dreary sensation lingered in his stomach.

Fuji kept his eyes down and shook his head. "I wish I knew, but..."

A knock on the door interrupted them.

Not even five seconds later one of the school's veteran teachers pocked his white-haired head into the room. "Fuji-kun, Tezuka-kun, can I bother you for a moment?"

Tezuka glanced at Fuji before turning back to his teacher, who looked not the slightest disturbed for what was happening just a few metres down the corridor. "It's okay, Tanuma-sensei."

Tanuma stepped into the room and Tezuka caught sight of Kikumaru lingering behind him, anxiously glancing inside. Fuji was about to wave him inside as well, but then Oishi appeared beside his doubles partner and with a few whispered words pulled him away.

Meanwhile Tanuma closed the door.

"Are you two feeling alright?" He asked and Tezuka appreciated the collected tone very much. Unlike his younger colleagues guarding the scene outside Tanuma appeared not out of his depth.

"I guess we're okay." Fuji replied on behalf of them both.

Their teacher had already expected that answer. "That's good, but in case that changes you need to inform me or anybody else of the staff immediately." He paused. "Now, does either of you have an idea who did this?"

Tezuka merely shook his head and Fuji said: "No."

Tanuma frowned. "Then let me change my question - is there anybody you would suspect? Perhaps somebody with a grudge or any other reason."

"No." Fuji shook his head. "I don't even know why..."

Tanuma pressed his lips together. "I see ... but if you suspect this is just a prank gone wrong, please tell me so." He sighed and glanced over to the window. "Unless it's a prank we'll have to call the police in on this."

Tezuka nodded. Prank or not, the consequences of this were going to be ugly.

Not that whoever did this deserved any less. Deep in his chest Tezuka could sense anger bubbling; anger at this senseless act of cruelty. Yet the anger was almost drowned by his confusion. Who had done this and why?

For a split second he saw the scene again. The severed head of a black cat on top of Fuji's locker. One eyeball dangling down, a rotten smell and fur, organs and many, many sickening things on the floor.

Now that he was breathing fresh air, he realized that the scene had been off.

Ice flooded his veins and he barely even heard the rest of Fuji's conversation with their teacher.

"They'll probably want to ask you a couple of questions; especially you, Fuji-kun, so I need to know whether you will be at school or at home." Tanuma had turned to the window, before glancing back at Fuji.

Fuji blinked and then smiled faintly. "I'll be here."

Their teacher eyed him critically. "Sure? You're free to take the day off, if you want to, seeing as no one can ask of you to get your books."

With all his might Fuji kept his face from twisting at recalling what fate had befallen his school materials. "Still, with finals ahead, I'd rather not miss class."

"If you say so." Tanuma replied and straightened. "But in case you start feeling sick you should head to the nurse immediately. And the same goes for you, Tezuka-kun."

Tezuka blinked at being abruptly called back to reality.

"I may not be a doctor, but I wouldn't be surprised if quite some of you and your friends suffered a kind of shock. So take it easy today." Tanuma glanced to the door. "I have to get back and take care of things out there, but if something comes up, please contact me."

They nodded and bowed automatically and only when their teacher had left the room, Tezuka and Fuji looked at each other. There were a thousand unanswered questions in Tezuka's mind, yet he wasn't sure if now was the right time to ask them. Maybe it was the pale winter light, but Fuji's face looked as white as the wall.

As if a gust of wind could make him crumble.

For a moment he was back at that house, stumbling into the living room to find Fuji motionless on the floor. He almost reached out for his friend, just to reassure himself, when Fuji's lips formed a faint, faint smile.

Tezuka never got to raise his hand.

"I guess Eiji got his wish at least partially granted." Fuji commented suddenly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "First period has successfully been stopped from taking place."

A glance at the clock revealed the a mere twenty minutes of first period were left and even though his mind was still in uproar Tezuka sighed and let some of the tension drain from his body.

"Looks like it." He replied. In his mind he was warring with himself. Ought he let this slide, accept Fuji's offer to return to everyday normality and stop wondering about this event? Or should he voice his confusion on the danger of making Fuji confront something possibly harmful?

As the seconds ticked by, Fuji glanced away and Tezuka couldn't help feeling that by allowing Fuji to retreat behind his facade, he was abandoning his friend. There was worry visible in those eyes; worry and something else far more disquieting.

Tezuka pressed his lips together.

He was reluctant to admit it, but there was a good chance Fuji knew more than he let on. There was no proof for his suspicion, other than the fact, that strange things had happened to him and Fuji ever since two days ago.

There should not be a connection between those.

Such thoughts were preposterous, unreasonable, absurd.

Yet in the back of his mind he started doubting his logic.

Fuji had never explained why exactly he had fainted – and while exhaustion made a good reason, considering what had happened one day later put the scene into another perspective. For some strange reason Fuji had known that cat had been about to attack.

... a cat that had worn a green collar, identical to the one late Mori-san's cat had worn.

And...

Tezuka swallowed. The pieces threatened to come together and form one horrid, mind-freezing picture. Instead he turned to Fuji.

"Fuji." He said. "Would ... can I talk to you?"

Fuji tilted his head and Tezuka shook his head. "Somewhere private."

"Sure. Clubhouse perhaps?" Fuji suggested. "Nobody should be there now."

* * *

One exit through a back door saved the two of them from many inquiries. While Fuji was quite certain Eiji was beside himself with worry and Oishi probably as well, he had enough on his own mind right now.

Even though there was good chance Tezuka would try to pry those thoughts out of his head, Fuji amended with a half-stifled cough and followed his friend through the snow. With all clubs on hold the caretaker had obviously decided not to shovel off any snow on the sports grounds. It was against regulation, but with the ridiculous amount of snowfall recently it couldn't be helped.

Not that understanding this made the cold soaking through his shoes any warmer.

Temperatures had not risen even though the sun had gone up, as the pale light filtering through the clouds indicated. Their clubhouse was not heated and for a moment Fuji wondered if remaining outside wouldn't be wiser.

Then Tezuka dropped down on a bench, his eyes fixed on the floor and Fuji stopped thinking about the weather.

Tezuka sighed and once more contemplated whether this conversation was necessary. If his suspicions were nothing but rising paranoia, he'd completely ridicule himself in front of Fuji. But... while he'd usually dismiss his suspicion as entirely absurd, the pieces fit. Fit frighteningly well.

"Fuji." Tezuka looked up and caught his friend's eyes. "About this... and yesterday."

Fuji stiffened. Tezuka had caught onto something; his behaviour had given that away. Yet not for the first time Fuji wished he could read his captain better – he had no idea what exactly it was Tezuka wanted to talk about.

"... I know this sounds absurd, so please tell me if I'm seeing things that aren't there." Tezuka took a deep breath. "I don't really know where to start, but ...That cat's head belonged to the cat that attacked us yesterday, no?"

Fuji glanced away. "It might have."

"They had the same collar." Tezuka replied firmly. The collar he'd seen this morning had been tainted dark red by blood, yet he recognized it well enough. "They had the same eyes as well."

The memory of the lone eyeball rolling away from the carnage rose suddenly. Fuji wrapped his arms around himself and frowned "Yes. So maybe it was really the same cat. I still don't know who is responsible, if you want to know that, Tezuka."

Tezuka almost flinched at the defensive edge in Fuji's voice. But not pursuing the subject now meant preferring one of Fuji's facades over the truth – and how often had Tezuka wanted to glimpse underneath that mask.

"Are you certain?" He asked, harsher than he intended. "Those things do not appear logical, but Fuji, please explain one thing to me: If the cat yesterday and today were the same – how come that thing we saw today looked and smelled as if it had been dead for quite some weeks at least? How come that green collar is exactly the same Mori-san's late cat had been wearing?"

Fuji stepped back and with an exhausted sigh plopped down on the bench opposite of Tezuka. He dropped his head in his hands, coughed and Tezuka wanted nothing more than to wrap a blanket around those thin shoulders and ensure his friend things would be alright.

"You shouldn't... be asking this, Tezuka." Fuji muttered. "You really shouldn't."

"Am I not going to like the answer?" Tezuka questioned in response and Fuji wearily lifted his head.

"You're not even going to believe it. Tezuka, trust me, it'd be better if you leave this be. I have a hard time making sense of this... I don't believe half of it myself." Fuji shook his head.

"I guess that might apply." Tezuka admitted, before adding. "Usually. After this scene today... you might just have to tell me to see whether I believe it or not."

"It's better if I don't." Fuji shot back.

Tezuka pursed his lips. "Fuji, I'd like to understand what is going on. Obviously someone or something is targeting you and ..."

The flat reply came instantly. "The cat yesterday meant to injure you."

"One more reason for you to tell me what you think is going on." Tezuka hid a small smile. "If this... person or whatever is going after me as well, I'd like to have at least some kind of an idea."

Fuji gave him a half-hearted glare, before becoming serious once again. "This is going to sound entirely illogical, insane, bizarre. Don't say I didn't warn you."

He swallowed. As a matter of fact he wasn't actually uncomfortable with sharing his thoughts on the events. What made him worry was Tezuka's reaction. Fuji had no way of predicting how Tezuka was going to take his words and he could only pray they wouldn't destroy their tentative friendship.

Tezuka was not known for associating with people who believed in the supernatural or were even vaguely interested in something that had not solid foundation in science.

But then again, he had to tell Tezuka. As things stood right now, he couldn't risk leaving his friend clueless.

Especially when it could cost a life.

"Let me start with confirming your suspicion." Fuji eventually said, flexing his fingers against the cold. "The cat we saw yesterday is the same as the one today. And also identical with Mori-san's cat. As to the how ... there's some power at work here I don't completely understand. But while the cat yesterday wasn't quite real – it wasn't an illusion per se."

He pressed his lips together. "Actually I suspect the cat yesterday was an illusion using the cadaver of Mori-san's cat. I'm not certain, but it fits. If Mori-san's cat died in late autumn, the body would have been rotting slowly due to the early frost this year..."

Tezuka's stomach flip-flopped, but he kept his face straight. "But why did it attack us?"

"I'm not entirely sure. You said the Nakayamas collected a certain kind of objects – some of which supposedly hold a spiritual value." Fuji glanced over at him. "Sometimes spirits attempt to reclaim those objects and according to legend they stop at nothing."

Tezuka tilted his head, not yet certain at how things were connecting. He had long since forgotten the biting air that slowly crept through his clothes.

Fuji sighed and his breath formed a small cloud. "That entire house is protected by several layers of wards designed specifically to keep spirits out. One had been broken. The spirit was attempting to use us to break the second."

All Tezuka could do was blink. He'd accepted Fuji's explanation about the cat. While certainly not in accord with any scientific theory, his friend's words possessed their own logical. And he'd seen that cat himself – even if he'd never heard anything about spirits and wards concerning that house.

"Strange, no?" Fuji asked, sounding almost cheerful. "But it gets even better. The easiest way to get past those wards for a spirit is to be invited in."

Tezuka remembered Fuji starting to wave the cat inside and abruptly stopping. He also remembered more than one text from his literature class that featured demons, devils or other such creatures. Most of them could not cross a threshold without prior invitation.

Was there a grain of truth to those absurd tales after all?

"A second trick to get inside is by obtaining blood of the owner – though nowadays that means something along the lines of the person legally in possession of the key." Fuji smiled darkly. "This is why the cat attacked you."

A shudder ran down Tezuka's spine. He swallowed. "Why... why didn't it attack us on our way home then?"

Fuji shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. Something might have distracted it."

"And today?" Tezuka inquired, even though his mind was still helplessly lost in the midst of Fuji's explanations.

A frown crossed Fuji's face. "I can't see any objective but making a statement. That spirit drew my blood and if it is indeed as powerful as I fear it is, it might very easily locate me whenever it wishes to."

Tezuka made to reply but Fuji held up a hand. His eyes found Tezuka's. "This means we should keep a distance until all of this has blown over. That ... thing might be trying to locate you through me."

"Do you think it will attack again?" Tezuka eventually asked, feeling atypically faint. He could hear his heart beat echoing in his ears.

Fuji didn't even need to think about his answer. "The moment it finds you it will."

_tbc_

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_Please feel free to share any kind of thoughts, ideas or improvement suggestions with me ^_~  
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	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **PoT does not belong to me. This is merely written for entertainment.

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Now, I'm terribly sorry for the late update this time around, but several things in rl had to be taken care of. Thank you all very much for the wonderful reviews – and a special thanks to those who pointed out grammar and spelling mistakes. Regrettably I haven't gotten around to correcting them in the version yet (partly since the workings of at times confuse me), but once I get time, I'll try my hand at that. ^^" Anyway, in case you're curious as to where the story is going, there is always livejournal (username there is: paranoid_fridge).

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As for reviews:

**Scarlette Shizuru**: Thank you very much. The cat aside, I feel more familiar with plain suspense, since I find gore and violence harder to convey in writing. But then again, there will be some of both in the future.

**Damatris**: Thank you very much for reading and reviewing. To be honest, I wasn't quite sure the scene would be as gory in writing as I had imagined it in my head. So I guess I'll accept responsibility for making you lose your appetite there (though I hope it returned by now ^^). Tezuka and Fuji, well, are going to have to face some trouble in the near future… *evil chuckles*

**Speadee**: I hope you recovered from the bloody parts by now. The next chapter is - some flashbacks aside - not as bad where gore is concerned, but I think some uncomfortable scenes will pop up again in the future. As for the info, I know some of the facts I mention do not agree with PoT canon, but I'll claim creative liberty here. And the confusion about how long Yumiko will be gone is my fault, seeing as I write and re-write a story three to four times, so the 2 weeks info is part of the old plot, while "five days" is up-to-date. Thank you very much for reading!

**PWNsomeness**: Thank you very much for pointing out that mistake. (So yes, one can learn things from writing fanfiction.) Hope you'll enjoy the next chapters as well!

And a big, big thank you to **Nadia**, **emikoxchan**, **yoshikochan** and **Mesonoxian**. Your reviews make the rainy days over here a little brighter!

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_Seven_

Ice crawled through Tezuka's veins. It was as if the temperature in the clubhouse had dropped abruptly and he couldn't find a single word to say.

Fuji eyed him evenly. "We probably shouldn't stay here any longer."

Tezuka's mind stuttered. Among the fragments of thoughts left in his head forming a logical sentence turned impossible. Only a half-hearted protest fell from his lips. "But..."

"The risk is too high. This spirit is too powerful and I have no way of sensing it approach. As long as you don't stay too close to me, you should be safe." Fuji sighed and flexed his fingers to dispel the stiffness that had befallen them.

Tezuka caught a glimpse of white between Fuji's glove and sleeve. With everything that had happened this morning he had almost forgotten Fuji's injury. An unfamiliar sensation deep in his heart made him reach out and grasp Fuji's hand.

"How is the wound?" He asked, carefully pulling off the glove. Plain white bandages greeted him – Fuji had probably changed them last night – and he felt relieved at seeing no new red stains on the cloth.

"Okay." Fuji replied, looking a little uneasy.

Tezuka kept his eyes on Fuji's hand. He couldn't help wondering about everything that had happened – he had never expected things to end up like this when he'd accepted his grandfather's request to go to the Nakayama's house.

His grandfather probably hadn't either, though right now Tezuka couldn't help the doubt assaulting his thoughts. They were good friends, the Nakayamas and his grandfather – it s wouldn't surprise had his grandfather known about their collection.

Yet his grandfather had never struck him as somebody to believe in the supernatural.

It didn't change that this request was what had caused Fuji to stand before him, pale and with one arm wrapped in bandages, telling him they ought to put some distance between them because a mysterious threat was after him.

The logical part of his mind screeched in protest. He did not believe in the supernatural and there had not been any definite proof. Everything might have been chance, unlikely as it was.

"Tezuka?" Fuji asked, slightly confused at Tezuka's silence coupled with his refusal to let go of his hand.

"Are you sure the spirit won't attack you as well?" Tezuka asked. "I don't really understand how this breaking of wards works, but are you certain it has to be me?"

Fuji glanced sideways. "I don't possess a key. The only way I could help said spirit to break the wards would be if I was inside the house and invited it in. If it had your blood it could just pass through..."

Tezuka pressed his lips together. Fuji's argumentation was convincing – he merely didn't like the idea of letting his friend out of his sight when an unknown could attack him any moment. He recalled the cat and an unbidden shudder ran down his spine.

"Couldn't we just destroy what it is after? Or bring it to another place?" Tezuka suggested.

Fuji blinked. "I'm afraid it isn't so easy. First of all, I have no idea what the spirit actually is after. And then there's no telling whether this thing is actually at that house. You mentioned the Nakayamas donated quite a part of their collection to museums."

"There's no way to find out?" Tezuka questioned and finally let go of Fuji's hand. Even held between his own, he had felt how those slim fingers had continuously grown colder.

They ought to be getting back inside the school building. Second period would start every minute and the unheated clubroom posed only a minor improvement to temperatures outside.

"Not really..." Fuji started and hesitated. A frown crossed his face. "Tezuka. It's just a guess... Mori-san died of natural causes, didn't she?"

"As far as I know." Tezuka replied with a raised eyebrow. She had been well into her seventies at least, maybe even older. And while she'd been healthy for her age, her movements had continuously grown slower, stiffer.

The weather had been her undoing, he recalled his grandfather saying.

Fuji's lips twitched. "The circumstances.... was there anything unusual?"

Tezuka caught Fuji's eye and abruptly realized what idea his friend entertained. His eyes widened. "You don't think...?" He asked breathlessly.

"I wouldn't know." Fuji answered. "It might have nothing to do with anything, it's merely an idea."

A frown crossed Tezuka's face. He hadn't paid much attention when his parents had informed him Mori-san had passed away – while the news had been sad, deep down he hadn't been surprised.

He had never suspected anything unusual at work.

And, his mind cautioned him, maybe he was suspecting too much. Even if he believed Fuji's explanation, that did not necessarily mean, that Mori-san's death connected.

"Nobody mentioned anything out of the ordinary." Tezuka eventually said, remembering the sombre atmosphere at the funeral. Nothing in the atmosphere had even suggested doubting the circumstances of Mori-san's death.

"As I said, it's merely an idea. It might not relate to our case at all." Fuji rubbed his hands together in order to restore circulation to his fingers. "Right now I barely can make sense of what is happening – and maybe I'm wrong."

He turned back to Tezuka and a strained-smile played on his lips. "But I'm not going to risk your life over that."

And before Tezuka could think of anything to say, Fuji had left the room and disappeared into the icy white world outside. A cold gust of wind tore into the club room and Tezuka shuddered.

His eyes remained fixed on the plain grey wall opposite of him, even though Fuji was no longer there. No emotion was visible on his face, but a hurricane raced through his mind. The explanation Fuji had given him – regardless of how easy it had been to accept – shattered his picture of reality,

As if the cold was obstructing his mind he only very slowly started to realize the true scope of Fuji's words. If he was to believe what his friend had said, it meant giving up the world as he knew it. It also meant that logic alone did not suffice to explain anything anymore.

Tezuka clenched his fists as he felt the beginnings of a headache creep up on him.

On one hand everything had been thrown into chaos – wards broken, cats raised from the dead and a malevolent spirit after his blood. Yet on the other hand, classes at school proceeded as they did everyday; people went to work and normality remained undisturbed. He felt caught between two worlds.

Outside the bell rang and with a sigh Tezuka stood up.

He would probably not be able to set his mind at peace on his own. As long as this mysterious threat was out there and Fuji continued to look strained – but as of now, there was nothing he could do.

For the first time in his life Tezuka Kunimitsu had to acknowledge that he was powerless to change the situation.

All he could do for now was go to class and pretend nothing had happened.

He had to blink when he left the clubhouse. The clouds had grown considerably brighter and if his eyes weren't deceiving him, he could spy patches of blue sky in between. His breath fogged immediately and he could feel air as cold as ice crawling underneath his coat.

Clear skies in winter meant temperatures would drop even further.

And with the day already this cold, he dreaded to think of what the night would bring.

* * *

School that day proceeded slowly.

A nervous tension had spread through the corridors and classes were unusually silent. More than once Tezuka caught curious glances cast into his direction or noticed conversations abruptly ceased upon his entrance. However he did not mind the silence, especially since he had more important questions on his mind.

Oishi was the one who finally dared to address his distraction, after Tezuka had failed to correct their math teacher even once during fourth period.

"Tezuka." Oishi said in a hushed voice. The captain of Seigaku's tennis team glanced up in response.

Oishi pressed his lips together. "Is Fuji alright?"

For a moment Tezuka remembered having seen Oishi shortly after he and Fuji had found the cat's mutilated body. "As well as possible." Tezuka replied, even though in the back of his mind he wondered whether he wasn't lying.

"I know it's probably not my business." Oishi continued and Tezuka could see his fingers clench hard enough around his pencil for the knuckles to turn white. "But do you... can you tell me what is going on? I don't mean to be curious, I just..."

"I understand." Tezuka interrupted. He felt a number of inquisitive eyes boring into his back and students next to them had fallen silent, intending to listen in on their conversation. Without lowering his voice he carried on: "Though I don't know either."

It wasn't a lie.

Tezuka did not know what was going on – he only knew a theory Fuji had provided. But that was no knowledge he was going to share with the rest of the world. Not even Oishi, since his poor vice-captain already appeared shell-shocked by what had happened without suspecting supernatural involvement.

"... I hope Fuji is going to be okay." Oishi commented after a second. "I mean, that looked horrid. Whoever did that must have been – seems to be capable of doing terrible things. And I can't help but wonder whether they'll actually stop at this or whether there might be more."

Tezuka sighed. "Oishi, I'm afraid I really don't know. Though I believe school will tighten up security to make sure there is no repeat of such an incident."

In the back of his mind, he wondered whether their school's security posed any kind of obstacle if a spirit was at work. Oishi did not look relieved, either. "You don't think anybody is specifically going after Fuji, do you? In that case maybe one of us should see him home..."

Tezuka contemplated the suggestion. Fuji wouldn't appreciate assigned a bodyguard. His own conscience however would feel much easier if he knew his friend wasn't alone out there.

No matter what he did, he just couldn't banish the memory of Fuji's paper-white face after he'd fainted two nights ago. What if it happened again and he wasn't there?

What if the spirit attacked...?

But would it attack as long as he wasn't with Fuji? His friend had been certain it would not. Tezuka didn't understand much of the supernatural and that left him doubting.

"That might be a good idea." Tezuka eventually said and kept his eyes down. "While I don't know what the incident was about, it would be better to remain on guard."

A faint smile crossed Oishi's lips. "You're right. I'll ask Eiji, even though I doubt that will need much asking."

Tezuka recalled Kikumaru's pale face and guilt spread through his heart for using his friends' concern like this. They were honestly worried – willing to put themselves in danger – and he couldn't even tell them what he knew.

* * *

The sun was already setting when Fuji left school.

Before the last period had started, a police officer had dropped in and Fuji couldn't quite keep a frown of his face when he left a class that had fallen into shocked silence. Countless gazes bore into his back, but he kept his head up.

He wanted to sigh in relieve when the door closed behind him, yet the moment the officer began his questioning, he found he wanted to scream.

"I'm very sorry, but I honestly don't know who could have done it." He said instead.

"Nobody you got in trouble with? Or somebody who might be jealous? Or just anybody who lately started acting strange around you." The officer replied. "It might not look like a big deal to you, but please consider well. You never know what that person might do next."

_No, I truly don't know what that thing will do next, _Fuji bitterly thought. Out loud, he said: "I apologize, officer, but I really have no idea."

"I see. But is there anything else that would give you a clue, perhaps?" The officer continued and Fuji felt his gaze hardening. "Did you ever see the cat before?"

Fuji met the gaze head-on. "I have seen quite a number of black cats until today. But I'm afraid I won't be able to tell one from the other, much less tell you whether I have ever seen that poor creature before."

The officer frowned and turned away. "There were some things left with the cadaver. Wait a minute."

Fuji nodded obediently. In the back of his mind he wondered why the officer had not yet addressed the issue that the cat had been dead for some time already. He would have preferred for them not to notice – yet he doubted they'd miss such a central fact.

Still he wished he had a way to convince them this was a tasteless prank gone too far.

"I hope you don't mind, but we had to empty your locker." The officer said, as he sat down at the table again, a tablet with a random assortment of things in hand. "I believe most of the books have been in there before, so I'll just ask you about the things that might have been added by an outsider."

Fuji sighed inwardly. With one glance he could tell that the officer had little idea of what kind of objects students kept in their lockers. None of his notebooks or books had made it on what Fuji secretly dubbed the "tablet of suspicious things", yet two spare pencils, his calculator and a tennis ball had.

The yellow had turned brown where the ball had been smeared with the cat's blood. Fuji's stomach twisted – that ball had been a private good luck charm.

"Those." He pointed at the objects in questions. "Are my belongings. I can assure you those have been in my locker before it was opened."

"Very well." The officer nodded. "But what about this collar?"

Fuji blinked. He barely recalled having seen the object in question and the thick layer of crusted blood made it even harder to recognize.

"I haven't seen this before." Fuji said, suppressing a shudder.

Tezuka had recognized Mori-san's cat due to this collar – he himself had seen it on the picture – and chances were good that the police would be able to identify the cat. Fuji pressed his lips together.

Meanwhile the officer had pulled out a plastic glove and set another object on the tablet.

Fuji's eyes widened.

Metal glittered under the cold neon light. The name tag was covered by dried blood, but the characters had remained legible.

Mori.

Fuji swallowed and his thoughts started racing. He tried his best to keep his voice even and his fingers from shaking. "Those aren't mine. And I don't think they belong to anybody I know either."

The officer nodded. "The name doesn't ring a bell?"

A bell that screeched louder than hell, Fuji conceded to himself, but certainly not the kind of bell the young officer in front of him meant. He needed to look things up – many things; some, he even wasn't sure he would find an answer to.

He needed to call Yumiko.

"Well... "Fuji set out. " While I do actually know two or three persons named Mori, none of them is a close acquaintance."

An unhappy frown crossed the officer's face. Muttering something about the country having too many black cats and too many people sharing the same surname, he took the tablet away.

Fuji's palms were wet with sweat.

Had the spirit managed to turn him into a key holder? Or did he need to touch the key for this? Was this feat even possible?

* * *

When Fuji reached home, the sun was a small red ball disappearing behind the horizon. His mother's china in the living room gleamed gold and the snow outside glowed orange – but the in spite of the colours the air was icy.

His breath fogged even after he had closed the door behind him and helplessly Fuji turned the heater up – though he knew it would take hours for the room to become comfortably warm. Instead of waiting, he took the phone as well as one of his mother's blankets upstairs, plugged in the kotatsu and waited until his teeth had stopped shattering before he dialled Yumiko's number.

She picked up after the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Am I disturbing you?" Fuji asked, not bothering with formalities.

He could practically see her raising one well-shaped eyebrow and heard cheerful voices in the background. "Not particularly." She replied. "What is the matter?"

Fuji drew a deep breath. "Do you remember when I asked you about spirits in the vicinity of Nikko?"

"Yes." Her tone grew concerned. "Did something happen?"

He didn't particularly want to tell his sister. She would worry even more than Tezuka did – but she was also the only person capable of answering his questions.

"Nothing too bad." He replied. "Yesterday I went out there again with Tezuka and we were attacked by a cat."

"So?"

"...I have reason to believe said cat wanted to gain entry to the house. I don't know why or what for, but as far as I remember the only way to gain entry would be either by invitation or through blood."

Yumiko's voice was tense. "Generally, yes. There are other ways, but those are guaranteed to work."

Fuji swallowed. "The cat ended up scratching me – and today I found a set of keys for the house in my school locker."

"And now you're wondering whether this little trick would turn you into a key-holder whose blood could be used to break the wards." His sister could probably guess he wasn't telling her the entire story. Yet thankfully she refrained from asking further questions.

After a moment she continued. "Well, I don't know the particulars, but it depends on who gave you the keys. If they were given to you by a legitimate key-holder the wards might be affected. But do you actually know what that thing you're dealing with is? The situation might be different if a ghost of somebody who used to be key-holder is concerned."

"I wouldn't know." Fuji answered and pressed his lips together. "But I don't believe it is a ghost."

Surprise coloured his sister's voice. "How come?"

"I can't sense it. Or rather, it can hide its presence very well. One moment it's there and in the next it has vanished." A shiver ran down Fuji's spine.

His sister fell silent and when she spoke next, her voice was grave. "Syusuke, that really doesn't sound like a ghost. At least not like a normal one. Though it's rare for a spirit to seek entry to a house..."

"The owners are collectors of items associated with the supernatural." Fuji admitted.

"It might be a spirit searching for something that was accidentally taken away from it." Yumiko guessed. "But then again, it might be something else entirely."

Fuji glanced down at his bandaged arm. After he had seen the cat's mutilated body today, he doubted they were dealing with a kind spirit looking only to reclaim his possession.

The fact that Mori-san's keys had been dropped into his locker made him suspect much worse.

"In any case, I'll be back next week." Yumiko was saying. "Watch out."

* * *

Fuji did not sleep well that night. He kept worrying about Tezuka and the memory of the cat's severed head rose unbidden. When he closed his eyes he could see the blood dripping down from his locker and spreading over the floor. How that eye had rolled away from the pile of crushed organs and rotten fur.

He felt as if he hadn't slept at all when the alarm eventually rang and for a moment he considered staying home. Outside the sky was clear for the first time in days, but the snow on the leafless tree outside glittered like ice.

With a sigh Fuji sat up. His head pounded and he felt dizzy, yet school today would finish at noon. He would survive those four lessons.

The moment he stepped outside, he woke up. It felt like all warmth was expelled from his body when he drew breath and he had barely crossed the street when he had already lost all feeling in his toes. Snow crunched under his feet and the cold easily penetrated four layers of clothing. Even the sun's rays on his cheeks felt like ice.

The air burned in his lungs and reluctantly he pulled a hand from his pocket to arrange his scarf. Even the thick woollen gloves had failed at keeping his hands warm – he could barely move his fingers.

As he walked down the street he wondered how many of his class mates were going to stay home due to the cold today. Maybe Eiji wouldn't come either, seeing as he had complained that he was freezing even in class lately.

Tezuka would certainly show up.

Unless...

Fuji frowned.

There was no way the spirit could have gotten to Tezuka, was there? At least not without him noticing – or at least he liked to believe so. Predicting a ghost's movements was so much easier than seeing through a spirit.

He left the street and entered the small park to take a short-cut to Seigaku. The greenery had been completely covered underneath a thick layer of snow and Fuji couldn't even make out where the path he usually walked was.

Soon even the last noises faded away and he found himself alone within a world of black and white. In the back of his mind he started to feel uneasy – this park was far too empty at this time, nothing but snow and leafless trees.

A shiver ran down his spine.

"Hello sweetie."

Fuji froze.

It was as if an invisible force had bound his feet. And deep within himself he had an inkling running would not be of any use.

"I have been waiting for you." He had not heard the voice before. It was clear, female and had his hair standing on ends.

He knew he shouldn't turn around.

But when he did he found a familiar face.

Fuji's heart stopped.

He had never met the woman in person, but he recognized her face. She was the one holding the cat in the picture in the entrance hall of that house. The cat whose cadaver had been place in his locker yesterday.

Mori-san.

She took a step closer and smiled.

"I would like you to join me on a little excursion."

_tbc_

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_Please feel free to share any kind of thoughts, ideas or improvement suggestions with me ^_~_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

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Thank you everybody for the wonderful reviews. They make writing twice as much fun! Shorter chapter this time, but I couldn't resist ending on a cliffhanger.

_Yaoi or not yaoi_: I don't intend to take the story into that direction, seeing as adding a romantic element on top of everything appears to be a bit much. However, feel free to interpret the interaction between Tezuka and Fuji as you like ^_~

**PWNsomeness**: Glad you enjoyed the chapter and well, I guess there's another cliffhanger in the making . Hope it'll still be fun to read. And I agree that sometimes there aren't just enough TezuFuji fics out there to read …

**Miou**: Thank you very much. Makes me very happy to hear this story inspires reviews ^_^ Und ich hoffe sehr, dass die nächsten Kapitel gefallen.

**Vhii1217**: Glad to know you enjoyed the last chapter. Tezuka and Fuji, well, won't get that much time to interact with each other in the next chapters, since they'll be busy trying to deal with their little problem ^^. And Tezuka will indeed have to attempt a rescue.

**Yoshikochan**: Fuji has gotten himself into trouble indeed (and Tezuka will probably be glad Eiji wasn't with him… who knows what would have happened to Kikumaru after all). Glad you enjoyed reading!

**Koshi Sekisen**: Hehe, you caught that one. Indeed, the spirit's intention is a little different from what Fuji currently expects. Anyhow, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and hope you'll enjoy the next one as well.

And a big, big thank you to **yume229**, **xad**, **emikoxchan**, **Mesonoxian** and **Scarlette Shizuru**. I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter as well.

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_Eight_

Fuji took a deep breath.

The person before him ought to be dead. As dead as the cats whose mangled cadaver had been placed inside his locker – not standing in front of him with an ill-omened smile on her lips. And he ought to be running as if hell was after him, yet his feet wouldn't move.

The snow-covered ground around them remained silent and empty. Sunlight had never been so cold - yet since the last clouds had disappeared overnight the entire world had turned into white, frozen hell.

"Surprised?" Mori-san, or whatever being that had adapted her looks, tilted her head, copying a gesture so commonplace among Fuji's female classmates. He fisted his hands inside the pockets of his coat, telling himself to remain calm – even though his mind was a mess of shattered impressions and he couldn't even form a clear thought.

His lips wouldn't move – whether this was from the cold, the shock or his lack of knowing how to respond, he did not know. But if he uttered a wrong syllable now ... One word was capable to decide fates, Yumiko had emphasized more than once, and Fuji could only pray he not yet spoken a foolish word to decide his own fate.

'"_Come in_-" was all he had said to the cat before he had abruptly realized his mistake. Had that already been fatal? His head started spinning.

Hadn't things just started making a little bit of sense? Tezuka was the one of interest for the spirit, not him, and Mori-san ought not to have been involved, yet here he stood. Was their encounter with the cat even related?

...or was he perhaps trying to connect completely unrelated events to each other and ended up with a wrong conclusion?

An icy wind tore over the ground and Fuji shuddered.

Mori-san remained unruffled. Her curly white hair blended perfectly with the snow behind her and Fuji couldn't help wondering what was going on. Had he been so utterly wrong?

What had he overseen?

"Are you mute?" Mori asked abruptly. Fuji's head jerked up and underneath the smile painted on Mori's face he could see darkness coiling. Those eyes did not hold the friendly sparkle of the woman he had seen on the photo.

There was cold amusement tainted by annoyance.

Whatever was happening, he could not afford to slip up here. Fuji pressed his lips together and forced his panicked mind to focus, to ignore the pounding of his heart for the moment.

He did not understand the situation, yet there was a chance that given time to put the pieces together he would be able to figure out. As he took one more glance at the woman in front of him, for the first time he consciously noted her attire – the thin grey cotton coat worn to a pair of matching loafers suited the image of a kind, elderly woman, but were not made to be worn in this weather.

Fuji eventually dared to speak: "You aren't Mori-san."

The smile widened. Those lips ought to have been blue from the cold long ago, yet they remained a soft pink. Unconsciously Fuji pulled his coat tighter around him.

"But don't I look like her?" the woman in front of him asked, spreading her arms in a movement smooth enough to befit a person half her age. "If not, tell me who you think I am."

Fuji bit his lip. The park was utterly abandoned; nothing but snow and trees and a couple of crows – and he couldn't even hear the sound of the traffic anymore. How long had he been standing here already?

Steeling himself he continued. "You aren't human."

He should have become suspicious the moment he had entered the park and found himself all on his own. Many students used the park for a short-cut to school, so the undisturbed white surface ought to have struck him as odd at once.

"Indeed." She chuckled. "But if you're waiting for me to introduce myself, I'm afraid I won't comply."

Fuji frowned. The cold had numbed his face and he barely even felt his cheeks move anymore. "... what do you want?"

He dreaded the answer, even if he wasn't certain he would receive one. In spite of the mind-blowing confusion a little voice in the back of his head insisted on reminding him of how the icy air was slowly killing all feeling in his limps. If he moved now, he'd be unable to even run.

"You mean what use I have of you. I doubt my goals are of any importance to you." She glanced toward the horizon, which sunlight and snow had painted blinding white. "Classes at your school start soon, don't they?"

All sensible thought vanished from Fuji's mind.

"As a matter of fact, I need you to call your friend." The grin practically grew while Fuji's face lost its last vestiges of colour. "You know which one. He'll join us on the little trip."

He stopped breathing as she stepped closer. "And you'll be the reason he comes along."

* * *

Classes were about to start, when the phone resting in Tezuka bag abruptly started ringing. With an irritated sigh he pushed aside his math book and reached for the small device, wondering who would be calling him at this time.

He kept the phone with him for emergencies only, though people apparently did not understand his concept of "emergency". Oishi had called him more than once late at night to consult on various topics concerning the members of their tennis team, Inui shared more data than Tezuka cared for and his mother enjoyed abusing the phone to send him grocery shopping.

As his eyes caught hold of the caller id however, his heart skipped a beat and he hurriedly pressed the 'accept' button.

"Fuji?"

Why would his friend be calling? Fuji ought to be in the classroom three doors down the corridor – unless something had happened.

He pushed his chair back, stood and left class to head over to Fuji's, his mind already entertaining infinity possibilities for what could have occurred. But the voice that greeted him made him stop cold.

"Is that you, Tezuka-kun?" Dark amusement coloured a smooth, female voice and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Who is there?" Tezuka asked, barely able to keep his voice from trembling. Icy air that penetrated the thin corridor windows easily burned in his lungs. He could see students hurrying toward the school outside, cars passing by – normality.

The woman on the other end chuckled, shattering the picture. "Please don't tell me you have forgotten me. You always enjoyed playing with my cat when you were younger. "

For a split second two pictures flashed in front of Tezuka's eyes, overlapping. Himself, barely older than seven, in a garden, trying to make a tiny black cat follow him - and dark red blood running down the blue-painted metal of their school lockers, an eyeball rolling toward him.

Tezuka's eyes widened. "Who is there? And what..."

He was interrupted by barely subdued laughter. "You're certainly going to remember me once you see me. But that aside, I guess you're interested in what has happened to your friend."

Outside the world glittered white under a wide blue sky as if nothing wrong was happening. Tezuka remained silent, clenching his fingers around the phone. Hadn't Oishi asked Kikumaru to accompany Fuji last night?

... but that had been last night. And Kikumaru, unlike Fuji, was not an early riser.

Before his mind could even begin berating himself for his oversight, the woman carried on. "Oh, am I wrong? You aren't interested in that boy's fate? How strange..."

Blood rushed into his head and Tezuka had to gather all his self-control to calmly pose the question that sent his mind into overdrive. "...what did you do to him?"

He could practically see the woman on the other hand smirking. "Nothing yet. But do you remember the pond at the park near your school? Let's just say the ice is rather thin..."

Tezuka suppressed a curse. He turned on his heel and marched back to his classroom, not caring for the other students he practically ran over. The curious eyes following his back remained unnoticed – he needed to get to that park as fast as possible.

He did not even dare to think of what would happen if he failed.

"I'm waiting." The voice whispered through the phone, soft, yet full of dark, barely veiled threats. "But don't make me wait too long..."

* * *

Tezuka grabbed his coat and disappeared from class before Oishi even had chance to ask him what was going on. Cold sweat was beading his back as he hurried down the corridor, disregarding more school rules at once than he had broken in all his three years at Seigaku before now.

Icy air hit his face the moment he left the school building, but he barely noticed. The frost made breathing difficult, yet his mind barely even noticed the burning cold filling his lungs. A hurricane raced through his head, tossing up memories, thoughts – and the logical part of his mind was screaming.

What was going on? Had Fuji not told him the truth yesterday?

His friend had appeared honest – or maybe that was merely what Tezuka wanted to believe? Maybe he had purposely accepted the wild story Fuji had presented him with, simply because deep in the back of his mind he had already sensed the truth ran far deeper.

But why now? Why the cat in Fuji's locker – why target them when the spirit wanted to gain entry to a house more than 100km away from their school?

He sped up as the park came in sight, breathlessly glancing left and right to catch. The pond was a little to the left, hidden behind a tree grove and already his heart pounded loudly. Not a single person in the entire park – had he picked the wrong one?

Tezuka dared not to think of what could happen if he made a mistake now. He had no idea what was going on, what that _thing_ wanted of him, of Fuji – yet he only knew he couldn't let anything happen to Fuji. If he had been more insistent yesterday this might not have happened.

If he hadn't allowed Fuji to accompany him to that house in first place, none of this would have happened.

Just when had he made the one wrong decision that had thrown two lives out of order? If it was only his own, it'd be already bad enough. That he had gotten Fuji right into this as well however was unforgiveable.

And should any further harm befall his friend…

Ice spread through Tezuka's heart.

Instead of even trying to remember where the park's paths were, he marched straight through the snow, barely avoiding stumbling over obstacles hidden underneath the white layer several times Horrible images haunted his mind – what if he was already too late, what if…

His eyes caught sight of the pond and two figures standing on the ice.

Obviously they had seen him as well. One of them – Fuji he guessed, but the sunlight and the snow were blinding his eyes and he could hardly make out more than dark silhouettes – raised its arms, waved frantically.

No sound reached Tezuka's ears, yet he slowed down. Those waves did not bide him closer. It seemed rather that…

Fuji wanted him to stay away. The moment he stepped past the grove's outer trees, he could hear his friend shouting, heard the woman chuckling – and could scarcely believe his eyes.

Mori-san stood on the ice next to Fuji, completely unruffled by anything. The expression on her face was nothing like Tezuka remembered it to be, her entire demeanor was that of an entirely other person. Yet she looked exactly the same.

Was this the same as what happened with her cat?

Tezuka's stomach twisted and Fuji's yell stopped his mind from depicting the conclusion.

"Don't come closer! Tezuka! Stay away!" Fuji's voice was hoarse, yet the determination carried over the last remaining ten meters of snow covered ground separating them.

Fuji did not move from his spot – what were they doing standing on the ice anyway? What convoluted power was at work here?

"Run away! She's only using me so you'll come! Don't!" Fuji yelled.

Tezuka hesitated.

Mori-san chuckled, sensing his inner turmoil. Fulfilling her demands – regardless of what end those were for – could not result in anything good. Yet not to give in and abandon Fuji to his fate defeated the purpose he had come for.

"Don't, Tezuka!" It was almost pleading. "Don't do it!"

Fuji's safety was his highest priority. Tezuka pressed his lips together and walked forward, ignoring Fuji's cries for him not to, while his heart was slowly being torn apart.

"You need to step on the ice." The Mori-san look alike told him with a faint smile when Tezuka stopped. "Otherwise…"

"Don't!" Fuji interrupted her sharply. "Tezuka, think about it! This isn't Mori-san; in fact this thing isn't even human. Think about what might happen if you do what she wants you to. Those wards weren't set up without a purpose!"

Tezuka's voice of reason, barely audible over the pounding of his heart, piped up at that. While he did not know that _things_ objective, the hints were already horrid. To take this further….

Fuji continued, calmer, but not any less urgent. "Your grandfather's friends did not seal up their house so thoroughly if there wasn't something potentially dangerous they were protecting. Tezuka, if this falls into the hands of…"

Neither of them had noticed the sudden darkening of Mori-san's face.

Tezuka's eyes barely caught what happened.

One moment Fuji stood on the ice, reasoning with Tezuka. Then a crack echoed like a gunshot through the silent park and before Fuji even had a chance to finish his sentence, the ice underneath him had given away.

Tezuka's heart stopped.

Dark water sloshed over the rim of the fresh hole, but no trace of Fuji and in the back of his mind he could only think that this couldn't be true, this couldn't be happening and this could only be a nightmare stemming from the deepest abyss of his soul. Mori-san smiled darkly, gazing down at the icy water into which Fuji had fallen, unperturbed by the hairline cracks in the ice under her own feet.

"Your friend was talking a little too much for my likening." She said to Tezuka. "As interesting as it would be, I don't want to spend all day here watching you make a decision."

Tezuka couldn't tear his eyes away from the gaping hole, praying for Fuji to resurface. Just when the water stirred, Mori-san turned a gauging gaze upon him.

With a smile colder than the water she had pushed Fuji into she said: "You know, like this you'd probably have up to ten minutes to make your decision before your friend is beyond saving. But…"

An abrupt gesture from her made Tezuka glance up.

"That is too long for my taste."

And normality shattered. Tezuka could do nothing but stare horrified as the ice closed up the hold in seconds, defying all laws of nature. His mind screamed – yet all he thought of was Fuji trapped under the ice.

Without oxygen.

Without a way to safe himself.

"Your friend has five minutes if he's a good swimmer. Though given these conditions, I wouldn't actually give him more than two or three." Mori-san informed Tezuka lightly.

"It's up to you now." She continued, amused at the horror written all over Tezuka's face. "I'll make it easy for you. If you want to save him, agree with my terms and step on the ice. If you don't, well, I don't think your friend would blame you. "

She shrugged.

"You've got two minutes, maybe less, so you'd help all of us if you could decide fast."

_tbc_

_

* * *

Please feel free to share opinions, thought and critique with me. :-)  
_


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

Thank you everybody for the wonderful reviews. They make writing twice as much fun!

* * *

**Lusterless**: Thank you very much. I'll agree that I at times have a tendency to let some scenes drag, which at times is not even intentional. It tends to happen when I try to build a certain atmosphere and can't seem to find the right words... but I'll keep it in mind for the future.

**xad**: I just love cliffhangers. *evil laughter* Anyway, it's true that Tezuka's behaviour did not go unnoticed by his classmates, yet even if somebody did follow him, Tezuka would probably have outrun them. Or maybe somebody came up with an explanation... And well, the thing about "drowning in freezing water" is, that actually survival chances are slightly higher, since the cold slows all body functions to a point where the brain can survive for a longer time without oxygen [but I won't swear on this. It might just be an urban myth...] Thank you very much for reading!

**Scarlette Shizuru**: Thank you very much for reading. There's not going to be that much gore in the next couple of chapters, since I find the reaction of the characters to it at times difficult to write. Same goes for the atmosphere in general. The "something missing" you mention might just be failure on my part to transmit the atmosphere as I intended. As for calmness... there's an attempt at making that happen at a later point in the fic ^_~

**yoshikochan**: Mah, Tezuka is stuck between a rock and a hard place right now, but things won't become that much worse. It will be hard for the two of them to get out of that situation, however... Thank you very, very much for reading!

**Koshi Sekisen**: Thank you very much for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed how the chapter turned out, and I guess I can't help forcing Tezuka and Fuji into some rather unfortunate situations. They'll try their best to get out, however. And as for what that monster is... that is one question they'll be wondering about as well.

And a big thank you to **PWNsomeness**, **yume229**, **emikoxchan** and **Damatris**. You guys are awesome ^_^

* * *

_Nine_

Tezuka froze.

His eyes were glued to the spot where Fuji had disappeared – the ice's flawless surfaces glittered mockingly in the morning sun, white and cold and unbreakable, even when just seconds ago there had been a gaping hole revealing dark water. The utter normality of the scene in front of him clashed grotesquely with the chaos tearing his mind into pieces.

Fuji was trapped under the ice.

The feat impossible to accomplish had happened in the blink of an eye, left him unable to believe what he knew was going on – and the Mori-san-shaped spirit watched all with a cool smile on her face.

He felt like screaming, running away and breaking down at the same time. A part of him wanted to call this an illusion, a hallucination – laws of nature could not be broken so easily – while another part of him frantically reminded him that this was true, this was real, and every second he wasted brought Fuji closer to death.

Yet he couldn't move a finger – even though his mind raged at him to do something, that he was practically killing his friend.

"Tezuka-kun." Mori-san's voice cut through the chaos filling his head. He barely even registered her presence anymore, and she was glancing down at the very particular spot of ice his own eyes were fixed on with an expression akin to mild interest.

"Your friend isn't doing too well. Though…," She turned away with a shrug "if you don't want to save him, that's fine with me. Things will work faster that way."

Tezuka's heart stopped.

A foreboding smile appeared on her face. "But to be honest, his death is not really going to…"

Abruptly Tezuka stumbled forward. The world spun madly, his vision went white, blinded by the snow and ice as he remembered how to breathe. His body felt frozen, his movements stiff and awkward – the ground no different under his feet and the pounding of his own heart drowned out all other noise.

He never noticed his knees hitting the ice, didn't remember falling and only dimly recognized Mori-san's raised eyebrow.

"Oh, so you want to save your friend?" She inquired; her voice almost inaudible over the uproar in his mind. "You agree to my proposition?"

Tezuka nodded weakly. His mind raged at him – this lack of control was unforgivable, he didn't even know what the spirit wanted and he needed to calm down. Letting himself be overwhelmed by shock right not wasn't helping anybody, least of all Fuji.

And then the world shifted.

* * *

He didn't remember passing out, but when his vision cleared he was somewhere else.

The ground he kneeled on had remained the ice-covered surface of a pond and the cold started crawling through the thin fabric of his school uniform trousers. A thick layer of snow covered his surroundings, the gentle slopes not of a park, but a garden, as well as the branches of old pine trees.

Tezuka never let his mind draw the conclusion.

A movement in the corner of his eye had him jerk around and he paid no heed to the complacent expression on Mori-san's face as he caught sight of the figure crumbled next to her feet. Fuji's face was hidden from view, his hair sprawled on the ice, wet and already starting to freeze.

Within a split second Tezuka was next to his friend, kneeling next to him unmindful of the icy water dripping from Fuji's clothes and soaking his own. He drew a deep breath to steady his frazzled nerves, but couldn't stop his hands from shaking.

Fuji coughed weekly, shuddering and Tezuka couldn't tell whether he was conscious or not, could only pray that it wasn't too late yet. He reached out to get a better look at Fuji face and almost recoiled, when the hair under his fingers felt colder than ice. It barely moved, felt as stiff as ice and for a moment Tezuka feared it would break. Then it gave - his fingers were warm; warmer than they should be.

When his gaze came upon Fuji's face, his heart stopped.

His friend's face was whiter than he had ever seen it and his lips blue. Not the faint shade of blue they turned when he had been out in the cold too long, but a blue bordering on purple. First ice crystals stuck to his lashes and in spite of his growing panic Tezuka frantically tried to recall what helpful measures he could take.

"Fuji!" He called and his insides clenched when Fuji's eyelids fluttered in response.

"He's alive?" Mori-san asked, while she watched over his shoulder. "You're quiet lucky then."

Tezuka ignored her. He leaned closer to Fuji, pressed his palm against his friend's cheek and called his name again. The skin under his fingers felt too cold for any living being and the logical side of mind poisoned him with whispers that they were far from safe, that things might just take a turn for the worse every second.

The air was too sharp, his friend's clothes were soaked, and right now he could recall the horror stories telling of victims rescued from the cold only to die all too clearly.

He needed to get Fuji inside somewhere, but he did not dare to move him. What if he did and ended up killing him instead? What if …

"… Te…" It was barely more than a whisper, yet Fuji's voice reached Tezuka's ears.

His eyes widened. Instinctively he grasped Fuji's shoulder and squeezed it, while his mind frantically tried to remember an action that would be more than reassuring.

"Fuji." He replied and his voice was steady, though he felt that his face surely showed his fear. "Hold on. I'll …"

Tezuka pressed his lips together.

He had to get Fuji out of the cold. Moving his friend posed a risky endeavour – it could kill him – and Tezuka lacked experience to judge the severity of Fuji's condition.

But no ambulance would come here.

Even if he managed to place a call, they'd not make it in time.

Grimly he threw a glance over his shoulder, taking notice of his surroundings for the first time, confirming what he'd suspected the moment he had noticed they were somewhere else. Sitting atop of a light, snow-covered slope, almost hidden by trees, was the Nakayama residence.

How they'd gotten here when one moment they had been at a park near their school and the next here, all within a split second, Tezuka did not know; he did not even have the faintest idea. It defied all laws of nature, went against everything he had considered an established part of reality – but right now it didn't even matter.

He turned back to Fuji and found his friend gazing at him with glazed eyes.

Tezuka let go of a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

"I'll get you inside." He promised. _And out of this mess_, he vowed silently.

Fuji's lips moved, but another voice cut through the air. "Well, doesn't that sound like a good idea?" Mori-san lightly announced, "Though I'd prefer it if you could hurry up a little."

* * *

The trek uphill was nothing short of hell for Tezuka.

His hands and feet were numb; he couldn't even feel whether his fingers were touching anything or not. Fuji was a dead weight against his chest, twice as heavy thanks to the water-soaked clothes that were slowly starting to freeze.

Mori-san walked ahead of them, from time to time glancing impatiently over her shoulder.

Tezuka shuddered.

Fuji stirred and opened his eyes a little. His breathing was shallow, but he was conscious and that alone was more than Tezuka had dared to hope for.

"Te … zuka," Fuji uttered, struggling to make his voice work. "Why are …"

"Don't worry," Tezuka replied even though one look at his face would easily turn his words into a lie, "We'll get somewhere warm soon. So just …"

"No."

The quiet word echoed in Tezuka's ears like an explosion. "What?"

He did not stop walking. The house was close now; Mori-san had almost reached the back door. Once they were inside, he'd just have a real chance to help Fuji.

"No." Fuji repeated and with dread Tezuka recognized the stubborn glint in those half-lidded eyes. His friend tried to struggle, but his limbs didn't comply.

"Tezuka, if we … the wards…"

Tezuka's heart grew numb. Memories flashed in front of his eyes; the cat, Fuji's words – in his panic he'd completely ignored the implications of Mori-san's presence.

… but then, Fuji would have died had he not agreed to her terms, obscure as they were.

And Fuji would die now if he hesitated any longer.

"… don't!" Fuji whispered and Tezuka had to look away.

He'd do anything Fuji asked of him. If this was any other day, he'd indulge whatever whim Fuji had suddenly found an interest in, no matter how much wasabi or how many cacti were involved. Just this one wish he couldn't fulfil.

"Stop fretting." Mori-san called as Tezuka's steps slowed down. "It's too late for that."

Tezuka glanced up, just in time to see her touch the back door leading inside. He barely managed to recall Fuji's words concerning the wards that ought to deny her entry – yet the moment her hand came in contact with the doorframe, it miraculously swung open.

A shiver ran down Tezuka's spine.

This shouldn't be happening. If anything he had understood until now, regardless how absurd and bizarre this was to him, Mori-san shouldn't be capable of walking inside this house. Those wards weren't supposed to be broken so easily, not by that thing that was disguising itself as a harmless old lady.

"Surprised?" Mori-san asked, looking quite amused, "You shouldn't be. Actually, I'm surprised you didn't figure out earlier. If those wards were the problem, I wouldn't have gone through all the trouble to drag you here, would I?"

Without even the slightest hesitation she crossed the threshold and stepped into the living room.

Tezuka could only blink.

Had Fuji been wrong? Had they both been wrong the entire time?

But why had the cat attacked them, why had those wards been so terribly important – and why had they come here? His mind was drowning in this maelstrom of confusion and all he could do was put one foot in front of the other like a robot.

It was the only way to save Fuji's life.

But what if it would end in getting them both killed?

He glanced down at Fuji's face, worried that he had fallen silent so abruptly and found Fuji gazing into the distance. His friend looked eerily like a doll; stiff and frozen and Tezuka decided that he had no time to think about consequences right now.

With a short prayer to all deities willing to listen, Tezuka followed Mori-san into the room and when warm air hit his face, he released a sigh. Tension drained from Fuji's body and he hurried to shut the door behind him.

Whatever magic Mori-san had used to open it, it had left no traces.

Banishing the confusion from his mind, Tezuka gently sat Fuji down on the couch, paying no heed to the water dripping from his friend. As gentle as he could with his stiff fingers he began peeling off Fuji's coat, though his friend blinked.

"…zuka?" He muttered, his voice slurred.

Tezuka tensed. Confusion in combination with exposure to cold was not a good sign; he clearly recalled having been told that. Especially when just minutes ago Fuji had obviously been aware of his surroundings…

"You need to get out of those clothes." Tezuka explained, praying that Fuji's condition wasn't worsening faster than his fingers could move. "And then you should take a hot bath and I'll make you some tea."

Finally the heavy jacket came off. Tezuka tossed it away and the numbness finally started to drain from his fingers. He tackled the outer jacket of Fuji's school uniform with renewed vigour and managed to peel it and the white shirt off his friend within moments.

Fuji kept blinking, as if he had to remind himself where he was.

Tezuka grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around his friend's shoulders and tried to make him stand, but Fuji collapsed against his chest, weakly grasping onto Tezuka's arms for support.

"We're going to the bathroom, Fuji." Tezuka said and it took all his concentration to keep his voice from shaking. "You need to get out of the rest of those clothes and take a hot bath. Then…"

The sound of footsteps made him glance up. Mori-san had just re-entered the living room, her face expressionless and her eyes fixed on Tezuka and Fuji. What made Tezuka halt was the glint of cold metal to her left.

"Bathroom?" She inquired with a frown. "I don't think that's where you'll be going."

Tezuka pressed his lips together, forced his eyes away from the large knife in her hand and his mind to focus. He couldn't allow himself to be scared right now, not when Fuji's life depended on him.

"We need to." He replied and the spirit raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?"

"Fuji will die!" Tezuka exclaimed, clutching his friend closer to his chest, yet the spirit in Mori-san's body appeared unimpressed by his words.

"That's not my problem." She said. "You agreed to my terms when you stepped on the ice."

Tezuka's heart faltered. He still had no idea what those terms concretely meant, but hadn't he agreed to safe Fuji? What use was this now, if it all came down to Fuji dying a few minutes later? That wasn't what he had agreed for.

That wasn't something he could accept.

"Then I'll stop complying with your terms right now." Tezuka shot back and his voice sounded far more confident than he felt. "If it won't make a difference, then I'll just…"

He never saw her move.

One moment she was on the other side of the room, the next she stood right in next to him, the kitchen knife pointed steadily at Fuji's throat. Dark, callous eyes were fixed on Tezuka's, staring right into the depth of his soul.

"You won't." She said; her voice as sharp as the edge of the knife. "Both of you will come with me."

She drew closer; close enough that Tezuka could almost see that this was somebody else hiding in a dead person's body. Those eyes were different, the movements unlike anything possible for a woman over seventy – and he shuddered when she drew the knife away, making sure it left a small scratch on the skin of Fuji's throat along the way.

"If you don't comply, your friend dies."

* * *

Tezuka felt paralyzed, but his body complied with the orders. Fuji whimpered against his chest, barely even conscious any longer and Tezuka scooped him up. His hands were in pain; burning now that the frozen numbness receded, yet he forced himself to firmly keep a hold on his friend.

"Upstairs." Mori-san ordered without glancing back.

For a moment Tezuka wondered if he should make a break for it; if he should just run to the bathroom instead of following this malicious spirit. He might just be fast enough to get the door locked behind him – though deep in his heart he doubted a locked door would pose much of an obstacle for a being that held little regard for the laws of nature.

Fuji shuddered and Tezuka wondered how he felt. Was he in pain or afraid? Was this bit of warmth enough to pull him from the brink or was Fuji drawing closer to death's door with each passing minute?

He wished for a measure to at least be able to tell – yet he remained utterly helpless. The spirit's threat effectively kept him from providing what little help he could and with a heart heavy with dread he followed Mori-san upstairs.

She walked directly to the library, pushed the door open to reveal the room in a state of chaos Tezuka had not laid eyes on before. Shelves had been moved, the table overthrown, countless books were on the floor, some reduced to single pages strewn everywhere.

Fear seeped into his heart, but Mori-san's cold eyes were watching him closely and he couldn't afford to stop now. Even if the hope for them to escape from this unharmed was dwindling, even if they might not get out of this alive … he had to cling onto whatever chance to survive remained, no matter how fleeting.

"Set your friend down somewhere and come here." Mori-san instructed him and marched over to the room's far corner.

Tezuka took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. Carefully he deposited Fuji in one of the large armchairs. His heart clenched when Fuji's head tilted to the side like a puppet's – and his skin still felt like ice. He pulled the blanket tighter around Fuji's shoulders, even though in the back of his mind he realized that this small, helpless gesture was probably in vain.

Colour had not returned to Fuji's face and his lips remained blue.

Was this…

His eyes burned as he stood and turned to Mori-san. If he complied, maybe this would pass fast. Maybe there still was a chance.

With a heavy heart he walked over.

"Kneel down." Mori-san said and gestured to the space beside a large, wooden box. Tezuka had not seen the object before, but it didn't appear to be anything special. The wood was old, dark and cracked in places; he could make out the faint remains of a decorative pattern.

Hesitantly he dropped to his knees.

"Good." Mori-san smiled darkly. "And now give me your arm."

Tezuka blinked.

"I need your blood."

_tbc_

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Please feel free to share your thoughts with me ^_^  
_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

Thank you everybody for the wonderful reviews. They make writing twice as much fun!

* * *

**Vhii1217**: Thank you very much. Tezuka is going to have some further trouble with situation, and right now Fuji is rather unable to help him with it. But as for how it'll all turn out – since I have quite some more chapters planned, nothing permanent should happen too soon. XD

**Viri9ian FuraMashi**: I'm glad I managed to convey the emotions in the chapter as I had hoped to – and now I shall hope that skill extends to future chapters as well. Thank you very much for reading!

**PWNsomeness**: Thank you very much. Mistake is duly noted (thanks for pointing it out) and shall be fixed the moment I find some time to learn how to do edits on ffnet without replacing an entire chapter XD

**Koshi Sekisen**: Glad the timing for posting the last chapter fit so nicely. I'll keep my fingers crossed that happens again XD. Anyhow, Mori turned out a bit different from what I originally intended – she was supposed to be more temperamental and angry. But simply not caring suits her a bit better, methinks. Tezuka and Fuji might feel differently about this – though for now they have other problems *evil laughter*

And a big thank you to **Chrysalis441**, **mjadzia**, **eternal fire123**, **LessThanThree** and **Nitrea**.

* * *

_Ten_

Tezuka's breath caught. Metal glittered menacingly in the sunlight filtering into the library, and the smile on Mori's face made the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

"What?" he asked, a part of his mind fretfully insisting he had misheard.

"Your arm," Mori repeated and her voice drowned out the pounding of his heart. Involuntarily his eyes slid over to Fuji, still lying motionless in the armchair, his face white against the dark fabric.

Mori stepped forward and raised the knife.

Tezuka flinched when cold hands grasped his right arm, pulled back the sleeve of his jacket – he wanted to draw a deep breath, steel himself – but the knife was already cutting through his shirt and skin at the same time.

For a split second he felt nothing.

Then pain seared up his arm. He gasped, wanting to curl up, but Mori's grip on his arm didn't allow for any movement on his part. His nerve endings were on fire, his heart was racing and all conscious thought fled from his brain. Mori never paid any mind to his struggles; she calmly proceeded to drag the knife down until she had made a cut from his elbow to the wrist.

Carelessly she tossed the knife aside and looked down at her handiwork. Blood flowed freely from the cut, running down her own hand and soaking Tezuka's white shirt, but she turned her attention back to the wooden box on the floor beside him.

Tezuka dared to open his eyes once he heard the knife clatter to the floor. He caught sight of the blood-stained metal edge and his stomach twisted. Dizziness rose and his arm burned, yet he forced himself to look at the damage.

His mind started clearing, even though his heart was racing and slowly he turned his head up to survey the damage. The cut bled profusely, but - and for a moment the confusion overshadowed the pain - it wasn't fatal.

Mori had made a long, shallow cut on the outside of his right arm.

Tezuka blinked. Mori caught his gaze and for a moment turned her attention away from the box.

"Is this really so surprising?" She asked lightly, amusement playing on her face. "Just think about it: it'd be rather stupid to kill you when your blood could be put to other uses as well."

He froze. Up close he could see the cold glee sparkling in her eyes - those were so different from the original Mori's. There was no warmth to be found in those dark pupils and her face seemed morphed, wrinkles smoothed over and it was as if Tezuka was looking at a far younger face underneath a mask.

Then a hand touched his arm, icy fingers dragging over the cut and he strangled a scream. White stars exploded in front of his eyes, he dropped limply to the floor as Mori let go of him, both of her hands red with blood.

The room was spinning, even though he felt the rough fabric of the carpet scratching his cheek. Gasping for breath he watched her turn away, bend down and lift up the box, then she stepped away and all he could see were her shoes.

He couldn't hear anything over the pounding in his ears, felt unable to move a single finger and yet in the back of his mind, a panicky voice urged him to move. This _thing_ had won, had about gotten what it wanted – even if Tezuka could only guess at what this would result in within his deepest nightmares.

And he hadn't heard a single sound from Fuji in the last minutes.

He ought to run as long as her back was turned. The cut wasn't fatal; he shouldn't let the pain incapacitate himself. Not if their lives were on the line.

Something in the corner of his eye moved.

Tezuka jerked his head up, only to witness Mori dumping the box on the writing desk, muttering incomprehensible words. A loose page at his side abruptly took to the air and fluttered back down a few paces farer away.

His breath hitched.

Mori was chanting, her voice steadily growing in volume, something started rattling. Tezuka's eyes widened; a book dropped from the shelf, another opened, papers rose as if caught in a breeze.

An ice-cold shudder ran down his spine.

The quality of the sunlight outside changed. His heart pounded as he tried to push himself up; his vision faded in and out while the room descended into chaos. A table fell over, books clattered to the floor and a hurricane of loose pages floated whirled through tension-filled air.

His mind was numb with disbelief, mesmerized by the mind-wrenching scene playing out in front of his eyes. No matter how many things he had already seen today, this belittled them all. The air cracked with invisible energy, tingled his skin, and he forgot to breathe when Mori brought her hands down in an extensive gesture.

A clap echoed through the room, just as an invisible backlash threw Tezuka back to the ground.

Stars exploded in front of his eyes, paper fluttered to the ground beside him, something crashed to the floor and he heard Mori chuckle.

"Oh dear," She laughed and her voice sounded completely different from before. This wasn't the voice he'd heard over the phone; this voice sounded richer and far younger, even if the inflection remained the same.

Swallowing down the dread obstructing his throat, Tezuka lifted his head.

Mori stood with her back to him, the shattered remains of the box in front of her. As her laughter died down she turned back to Tezuka and the cold gleam in her eyes made his blood run cold.

"I have to admit, I'm impressed," She cheerfully announced and started walking towards him, "Somebody obviously did know what he was doing here."

Tezuka tried to back away, but he couldn't move. She stopped in front of him and he saw anger burning behind the smile.

"That box was empty. That means you spilled all your pretty blood for nothing."

Tezuka blanched. Mori straightened her features, her eyes never leaving Tezuka's face.

"Now, you wouldn't happen to know where the thing that was supposed to be in there is?" she leaned forward, studying Tezuka's face closely. "Thought so. But I think you do know where the people who hid it are."

The little blood that had remained in his face drained away. Ice crawled through his veins, freezing his heart as panic filled his mind and he blindly opened his mouth.

"They donated many objects to the Tokyo National Museum. Maybe that object has also been …"

The knife reappeared in her hand faster than he could blink. Cold metal touched his throat and he stopped talking, starring at her with wide eyes. Mori's lips twitched.

"I didn't ask you where you think the object might have ended up," she said, "I was asking where the people who hid it went."

Tezuka swallowed. The knife started digging uncomfortably into the skin of his throat.

"If those people knew what they had in their possession, they'd never have given it to any sort of museum, boy. So save your breath and tell me where they are."

His mind was racing.

Mori's patience was running out. "Tell me before I do something I…"

"New Zealand." A new voice rasped, breaking the tense air.

Both Mori and Tezuka turned to see Fuji watching them through half-lidded eyes, still slumped in the chair. He was breathing fast and shallow and speaking was an obvious effort, yet Fuji tried to move his stiff lips.

"They … left for … New Zealand."

Mori raised an eyebrow. Almost unconsciously she removed the knife from Tezuka's throat and stood, her eyes fixed on Fuji's face.

"Interesting," she muttered and Tezuka forced himself to draw a deep breath. His head spun, fear obstructed his lungs even after the threat had been removed. He was barely capable of forming a clear thought, torn between disbelief at the events in front of his eyes and panic at what might happen next.

With barely a glance back she walked over to the window and pushed it open, not even flinching in the slightest as a gust of icy air flooded the room.

"I guess this concludes our little excursion today," she told them, "Try to stay alive though, I might have some other use for you in the future."

And without even a sound she disappeared.

* * *

It took Tezuka a few moments to gather his senses enough to sit up. The pain had receded to a dull throbbing and the cut had already started healing – though fresh blood still trickled down his arm. His head was pounding and he wasn't certain if it was due to blood-loss or due to confusion.

Warily he gazed from his injury to the carpet and back. He shouldn't have lost too much blood, but he was bad at judging, and the red puddle that was spreading over the carpet made him nauseous.

"…zuka."

For a moment he completely forgot everything.

He turned around and his wide-eyed gaze met Fuji's. His friend was moving, agonizingly slow, pulling the blanket a little closer to his chest with a limb that was as ashen as his face.

"Fuji," Tezuka stood abruptly, "Are you…"

He stumbled as vertigo assaulted him. His vision faded to black, he couldn't tell up from down and desperately reached out for something to catch hold of. In the end he tumbled into one of the book shelves, protectively cradling his right arm to his chest to prevent further damage and stayed still until his heart had stopped racing.

Fuji was watching him worriedly, made to disentangle himself from the blanket.

Tezuka's legs were trembling and he knew he ought to sit down unless he wanted to faint within the next minute. He closed his eyes, blocked out his tumultuous thoughts and tried to concentrate on breathing.

"I'll be alright in a moment," he told Fuji.

His friend responded with a nod and reluctantly leaned back. While his limbs had finally started thawing, he could only barely move them. His hands and feet still were utterly numb and even his cheeks refused to cooperate without aching fiercely in protest.

Tezuka managed to steady himself enough to stagger over and sink down on an armrest of Fuji's armchair. He glanced down at his friend, trying to organize his thoughts. One part of his mind was screaming at him he ought to somehow warn the Nakayamas, though he had yet to conceive a way that didn't make him sound utterly insane.

But first of all, he needed to take care of Fuji. Amid the chaos left in Mori's wake, he had had no time to address the direness of Fuji's situation – he hadn't even had time to pay much mind to anything.

Luck had been on their side, seeing as Fuji hadn't passed away while Mori had been busy cutting up Tezuka's arm. It had been a close call and Tezuka wasn't sure if he judged the situation correctly, but for now it seemed as if Fuji was doing a little better than before.

Still…

Maybe it was just the relief he felt at Mori's disappearance that made him underestimate the seriousness of Fuji's condition.

"We … you should get out of those clothes." He frowned. "Maybe a bath…"

"Yes. … And you … that cut…" Fuji's voice was slurred.

"I'll take care of it." Tezuka promised and stood up.

He drew a deep breath before he reached for Fuji. His friend tried his best to help him navigate to the bathroom, but he could hardly move his limbs and had trouble staying upright. Tezuka's body protested the strain and more than once he had to shake his head in an attempt to clear his vision.

It bordered on a miracle that they made it down the staircase and into the bathroom without accident. Tezuka gently sat Fuji down on the tiled floor before turning the heater up and starting a hot bath.

With a sigh he bent down and reached out to peel Fuji out of his soaked clothes, while Fuji carefully rested his frozen hand on Tezuka's right arm. Worriedly he eyed the cut, taking in the blood-soaked sleeve and Tezuka's pale face.

"Does it…?"

"It's okay." Tezuka answered. "It's not that deep and it has already stopped bleeding. I'll bandage it in a minute."

He took care to remove Fuji's clothing slowly and without making his friend move too much. Within minutes of contact with the wet, icy clothes his own hands started growing numb and he could only guess at how Fuji had to feel.

When he had Fuji stripped down to his boxers, Tezuka stopped. He tested the water with his left hand and found it warm rather than hot, though seeing how cold Fuji's limbs were, that probably wasn't such a bad thing.

If he had to be honest with himself, it probably was a miracle that Fuji was alive and coherent with everything that had happened within the last hours. A glance at the digital clock placed above the bathroom mirror revealed that is wasn't even much past noon, but to him it felt like years had passed since he had left his classroom.

Tension had begun to drain from his body and the warm tiles under his feet chased away the icy horror that had held him captive. He still couldn't make sense of the events – yet for now the knowledge that they were safe was enough.

"Is the temperature okay?" Tezuka inquired as he helped Fuji to settle in the tub.

His friend managed a strained smile.

"It is, I think." He averted his gaze. "I … don't really feel it."

Tezuka pressed his lips together. Maybe he should have risked the spirit's wrath earlier and insisted to at least change Fuji's clothes completely. Frozen limbs … he had heard many dreadful stories.

"I'll call an ambulance," He announced.

Fuji shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I'll … I think I'll be alright."

"But…"

"No. I'm already … feeling a little less … like an icicle," Fuji caught his eyes and while his voice remained shaky, his eyes were clear. "You need to warn … them."

Tezuka frowned. What could he tell the Nakayamas to warn them without sounding out of his mind? How to tell them their library had been practically wrecked?

"Or let me … talk to them," Fuji added, letting himself slide a little deeper into the water. "Though… that cut…"

With a nod Tezuka opened the little cabinet and found a small emergency kit without having to search. The remains of his shirt had started sticking to his skin as the blood dried and the sensation made him uncomfortable.

He dropped down on the side of the tub and started tugging his shirt away from the wound.

"Do you think they are in immediate danger?" He inquired to take his mind of the dull burn in his arm. Slowly the hurricane in his mind was beginning to settle, but the confusion remained.

"…no," Fuji whispered. "…the spirit … might not find them… so soon."

Tezuka heard his friend's voice hitch and glanced over to find Fuji curled up, his hair touching the water and his face hidden from view.

"Fuji?" He asked as dread spread through his mind.

"I'm okay," his friend answered, sounding strained. "It just …my hands … hurt like hell."

In spite of himself Tezuka let go of a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"I see," he replied.

When he'd been small, he'd once made the mistake of sticking his hand into the water of a lake that had just started freezing over. He had been curious about how cold the water felt – and at first, he'd been rather unimpressed. However, when circulation was restored to his fingers thirty minutes later he'd had a hard time trying not to scream.

"It'll probably stop hurting in a couple of minutes," he told Fuji.

"Great."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow at the sarcasm colouring his friend's voice. Inside a burden lifted from his shoulders as a fragment of normality restored itself to their bizarre situation.

He eyed the roll of bandage as he contemplated whether this was the right time to ask the questions wrecking havoc on his mind. And while some probably weren't even important and to others he dreaded the answer – there were those that had his heart miss a beat.

"Fuji," he began tentatively and kept an eye on Fuji's hunched shoulders as he started wrapping his arm. "Is this … over now?"

Fuji sighed, tried to flex his fingers and grimaced. "… I don't know."

Tezuka remained silent and Fuji continued. "It might be … over for us. That … thing … might not need us anymore. But …"

The spirit's parting words had implied something else.

"…I think it will come back."

"Why?" Tezuka asked and forced his voice to stay even. "Whatever it was looking for, it wasn't even here."

Instead of meeting his gaze, Fuji glanced away. "You wouldn't know what … used to be inside that box?"

Tezuka tried to finish the bandage on his arm, but it proved difficult to manage with one hand. "No," he replied to Fuji's question, "I don't think I've ever seen that box before."

"Sure? Come over, I'll finish that for you."

Tezuka crossed the small distance and held his arm out. Fuji smiled at him.

"I can move my fingers," he proudly announced and finished the bandages at a snail's pace. Tezuka kept his lips firmly shut.

He'd probably have done a better job finishing it himself with one hand, but right now he was rather happy to see Fuji getting better. Colour had returned to Fuji's lips and while his face remained pale, he no longer looked like the living dead.

"Anyways," Fuji eventually said with a small sigh, "I think … you probably saw whatever was inside the box. It might have been years ago, but …"

He smiled unhappily. "Whatever was protecting the box probably worked in way similar to the wards. And it could be broken using your blood."

Tezuka frowned, thoughtfully gazing down at his arm. The puzzle pieces in his head still refused to fit together.

"I hope I'm wrong." Fuji grimaced. "Though once that spirit finds what it's looking for, it'll probably be back for you."

Then he glanced up and his eyes met Tezuka's.

"And unless we know what it is looking for, we won't know what will happen the next time this spirit appears."

_tbc_

_

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Thank you very much for reading. Please feel free to point out any mistakes or share your opinion. ^_^  
_


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

Thank you everybody for the wonderful reviews! They make writing twice as much fun, and it makes me very happy to know there are other people in the world who enjoy the ideas my mind comes up with!

* * *

**Yoshikochan**: Thank you very much for your review. Fuji and Tezuka are going to have some time to try and figure out what actually is happening around them. Though if they're going to reach an conclusive answer is another question…

**Koshi Sekisen**: Thank you very much for reading and reviewing. Fuji had quite a close call there, and Tezuka is beyond stressed. For now they'll get a break to try and figure out what is going on. Your observation of the spirit's behavior is quite astute – though Fuji and Tezuka will need some time to learn the truth.

**Tennis-player**: Thank you very much for your review. You complement me too much – the story isn't yet complete. And I hope you'll enjoy reading future chapters as well.

Also a very big thank you to **Viri9ian FuraMashi**, **Scarlette Shizuru** and **Mesonoxian**.

* * *

_Eleven_

As the adrenaline drained from his body, Tezuka sighed. He'd spent the last hours in a state of paralyzed horror, incapable of realising the events occurring in front of his eyes. And while he'd dealt with everything the best he could, he was unable to help the exhaustion assaulting his body.

He dropped down beside the tub and rested his head against the rim, letting the hot steam caress his stiff muscles. Slowly Tezuka turned his head and glanced over to Fuji, who was staring at the far wall, lost in contemplation. His cheeks finally had regained colour and he no longer looked like the living dead.

Tezuka took a deep breath. His body longed to relax, but he was afraid to give in.

If the spirit was to reappear, they'd be completely helpless. If anything should befall them … yet Fuji appeared calm and Tezuka would trust Fuji's judgement concerning their situation.

His mind felt as if a hurricane had raged through it, left his logic crumbling, and strange, disconnected thoughts floating in his head like leaves in the wind. A small part kept wondering whether everything hadn't just been one big illusion, and he was going to wake up to the sound of his alarm clock in a few minutes.

If he ever got a second chance, he'd never go to this house.

Then he'd never have to see the mutilated cat in Fuji's locker, he'd never have his arm cut by somebody he once had considered family, and he'd never have to witness Fuji disappearing under a thick layer of ice.

His hands trembled when he recalled how close it had been. Something had frozen inside of him then, when he'd stared helplessly at the smooth surface of the lake, the creature's words echoing in his ears and it had felt like an eternity until he could move his feet.

Even now the warm, humid bathroom, that part of his soul would not thaw.

"You need to give them a call." Fuji's voice broke through his thoughts; even, but lacking his usual cheer.

Tezuka blinked and raised his head. He hadn't noticed his eyes closing.

"They'll probably be able to figure out things quickly," Fuji continued, an unfamiliar frown crossing his face, "But we ought to warn the Nakayamas. I don't know how quickly the spirit will reach them and…"

He stopped abruptly and Tezuka turned over to see Fuji stifling a cough.

Something deep in his chest clenched painfully. "And you need to get out of the bath before you catch a cold," he sternly replied.

Fuji's lips twitched upwards in a dry smile. "It might be a little late for me not to catch one right now. But I'll get out when you go and call them."

Tezuka eyed his friend critically. While Fuji certainly did not pass for healthy, he didn't seem in immediate danger of fainting either. The smile on his lips was weak, a shadow of his usual expression, but restored a small, precious bit of normality to their situation.

"Don't worry," Fuji reassured him and Tezuka's heart warmed a little. Then he tilted his head thoughtfully. "What are you going to tell them?"

Tezuka remained silent and Fuji raised an eyebrow.

"The truth won't work; I guess," Fuji chuckled. He gazed toward the ceiling. "They do know we were here a few days ago, don't they? How about you tell them we returned because I lost my student ID? It's not a lie, it just didn't happen today. And when we arrived we found the door open and the library upstairs a mess."

Tezuka felt numb. The way Fuji was constructing the story appeared well-practiced; a routine gesture like preparing his school materials every night.

Did Fuji have to do this a lot?

The implications sent a cold shudder down Tezuka's spine.

"You can tell them that as far as you can see nothing has been stolen," Fuji continued, unaware of Tezuka's thoughts. "But one box – and you should describe it en detail so they'll know what box it is – has been destroyed."

Tezuka swallowed, setting his contemplations aside for another time.

He'd have to lie with the same nonchalant attitude Fuji had just displayed. There was no other option.

Fuji's eyes met his. "If they recognise the box from your description, they'll know what is happening."

* * *

With a heavy heart Tezuka left the bathroom, walked down the corridor and shivered when icy air greeted him the moment he stepped into the living room.

The door to the garden stood wide open, just as they'd left it. As he closed it, he recalled once again their opponent's mysterious disappearance – where had that spirit gone, what would it do next and how on earth were they supposed to protect themselves?

Outside snow glittered in the bright sunlight. It had to be past midday by now, judging by the slightly lengthened shadows.

A humourless smile crept on Tezuka's face when he found his and Fuji's footprints in the snow. No trace of the spirits presence – just like the cat. Mori-san had appeared real, had been able to touch Fuji and him, and yet, according to the ground, she had never been there.

No matter how much nature's laws claimed the opposite – this being had been corporal and not at the same time. Utterly impossible.

A throb running through his arm reminded him that he had a job to do. Chances were, he wouldn't be able to make sense of the situation on his own, and even if he didn't like the tale he would have to tell, it was far more constructive than looking out of the window.

One deep breath, then he dialled the number and something inside him went onto autopilot. The voice uttering those words was his own, but he didn't feel as if he was speaking and when he placed down the receiver he was astonished at himself.

He had done exactly as Fuji had instructed and unless he had misread the situation, Nakayama Kenta had understood the message. This left him wonder, deep down, why two persons who obviously both knew that they were lying, did not simply speak the truth.

With a shake of his head, he pressed the call button once again.

A part of his mind hoped nobody would pick up and he wouldn't have to tell anymore lies, but the rational side of his brain reminded him that this would be rather unfortunate. With Fuji's condition and his blood-stained shirt, getting home on public transport would be a nightmare.

Furthermore Fuji's clothes were soaked and his were wet. The fathomless blue sky outside mocked them; bright and sunny but the air was as cold as ice. He did not want to imagine what a three-hour train ride might do to Fuji's health.

After two rings, somebody picked up.

"Hello?" his father's cheerful voice greeted him.

"Hello." Tezuka replied evenly, steeling himself for the conversation.

"Kunimitsu?" His father asked, surprise colouring his voice. "Aren't you at school? Did something happen?"

"No, I'm not at school. It's, well…" Tezuka hesitated for a second. He did not want to lie to his parents on top of everything – but they'd think him mad if he would tell the truth. "Remember when I went to the Nakayamas' house? Fuji came with me and he lost his student ID, so we went back to look for it."

"Ah, okay." Trust his father not to question why they had skipped school in order to do this. For once Tezuka felt grateful for his father's laissez-faire attitude.

"There was a small accident; Fuji fell into the pond," Tezuka's unconsciously gripped the phone tighter. "So I was wondering if you could come and pick us up."

He held his breath. His mother or grandfather would have immediately recognized his words for what they were – a poorly constructed cover-up, and they would have demanded him to fill the gaps until he had provided them with a full explanation.

All his father said was: "Must have been one hell of a snowball fight, then. Is Fuji-kun okay?"

"Yes." Tezuka uttered. His eyes fell on the bloodied sleeve of his shirt and he wondered how he would explain that to his mother.

"I see." His father said after a moment. "I'll have to wait until your mother gets back and then we'll drive out to pick you up. Can you wait that long?"

"I think so." Tezuka answered. He'd have preferred getting out of the house as soon as possible, but there wasn't much of a choice.

"Then we'll be along soon."

Tezuka placed the phone back and flexed his fingers. The drive from Tokyo to here already took almost three hours under normal circumstances. Taking the condition of the roads into consideration meant they'd have to wait four hours at least.

He still wasn't certain if not calling an ambulance was the right thing to do, but Fuji had appeared better. Unless his condition took an abrupt turn for the worse, the situation started to look a little better for the first time today.

Maybe, Tezuka dared to hope, things would be alright.

It felt impossible after everything that had occurred. When he'd gotten that phone call back in school, reality had collapsed and he'd found himself in a nightmare. First he'd thought he had lost Fuji due to his own stupidity; next what once had been a nice old lady was pointing a kitchen knife at him.

How they had made it through all this alive… it still was hard to fathom.

When Tezuka had trudged back to bathroom, he found Fuji out of the bathtub, wrapped in a larger towel and kneeling in front of the drier. His face was flushed, yet Tezuka could make out that underneath he was still too pale. Fuji turned to greet him with a sheepish smile.

"I hope you don't mind. I thought I'd try to get my clothes dry."

* * *

Ten minutes later found them seated in the living room, Fuji wrapped in three layers of blankets. Tezuka was watching him from the corner of his eye as he sat down two cups of tea on the table in front of them.

"So," Fuji conversationally asked over his steaming mug, "Did the Nakayamas understand what you told them?"

Tezuka sat down beside Fuji. "I think so. When I described the box, Nakayama-san just said yes, that he understood. He hung up shortly after…"

"I'll let you be the judge of that," Fuji replied with a shrug, "Though I really wonder what was supposed to have been in there. You don't have any idea, do you?"

A shake of the head was the only answer to this.

"But," Tezuka started after he had carefully taken a sip of his tea. "Just how did the spirit enter the house? I thought the wards ought to have kept it out."

Fuji let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped.

"I was wrong," He admitted and put his teacup back on the table. "I thought the spirit would need your blood to pass the wards, but the blood of anybody in legal possession of the key did the job."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow, and with a humourless smile Fuji added: "I completely forgot to consider that you had given me the keys when the cat attacked."

"So it was your blood?" Tezuka asked and received a confirming nod. In his head, he tried to fit the pieces together. "But why … it had to get us here to open that box, didn't it?"

"Yes, that's about it." Fuji said and coughed. "The box must have been protected by something resembling the wards around the house. It still remains a mystery why your blood made the box open or how the spirit knew that, but well…"

He trailed off, gazing outside thoughtfully. The tranquil landscape made a stark contrast to the bizarre events it had been witness too.

Tezuka straightened up. He might not have liked the subject of their conversation, especially when it still felt like a too-realistic nightmare, but a small part of mind reminded him that it could always happen again. That peaceful scenery of snow-covered trees under a clear sky was nothing but a front; attempting to fool him into letting his guard down.

"Let me try to get a clearer picture," He heard himself say. Deep inside he wasn't certain he even wanted to know the truth. If he was honest with himself, he'd have preferred going home and never mentioning anything again; if the world would let him.

However with the spirits ominous parting words weighting heavily on his mind, Tezuka suddenly found it necessary to make sense of concepts he'd otherwise have disregarded as fiction.

"There is a mysterious spirit apparently after something that has once been kept inside that box," Tezuka summarized, "And for some reason this spirit knew where the box was being kept – could it sense the box in any way?"

Fuji gently shook his head. "Under any other circumstances that would have been a possibility, but given the protections heaped on this place, I doubt it. The spirit must have found out another way."

Tezuka blinked.

A dark smile crossed Fuji's lips. "You, too, must have wondered why it took the shape of Mori-san."

Ice flooded Tezuka's veins. With baited breath he waited for Fuji to continue.

"Perhaps I'm wrong," Fuji pulled the blankets a little higher up. "Though I don't believe that the spirit chose Mori-san by chance alone. You said she died of natural causes – which I think might be true. But just think about what encountering such a spirit would do to somebody not too healthy."

Mori had had a weak heart, Tezuka recalled his grandfather mentioning. An encounter with this spirit… He swallowed.

"Though that does still not explain how that spirit, or whatever it is, knew that something was being kept here," Fuji added with knitted eyebrows. His voice started to sound scratchy. "Do you know if Mori-san liked to travel?"

Tezuka took another sip of the tea. By now the liquid had reached a comfortable temperature and he could feel dearly missed warmth spreading through his body.

"She did, though not as much as the Nakayamas," he replied. Then he nodded toward the pictures collected on a shelf on the other side of the room. "They travelled together sometimes."

Fuji glanced over. "You wouldn't happen to know where she went last, would you?"

"I don't," Tezuka answered, a little taken aback at Fuji's interest in a seemingly unrelated issue. "Why?"

A grimace crossed Fuji's face and he turned aside to cough. Had Tezuka been more prone to displaying emotions, he would have flinched at the sound. When the coughing did not abate after a moment, he grew concerned.

There was little he could do but press a teacup into Fuji's hands once the coughing fit was over.

Eventually Fuji continued; paler than before. "It's possible that Mori-san encountered that spirit during a journey. And if we knew where that happened, we might be able to discern just what kind of a creature we're dealing with."

Tezuka's eyebrows rose until they almost met his hairline.

Fuji chuckled. "There are different kinds of, well, creatures, spirit, whatever you want to call them, out there. I can't name them all, but I'm certain my sister has a book with names as well as pretty good explanations somewhere."

Tezuka nodded, and hazarded a guess. "Knowing what creature we're facing could give us a clue on how to handle the situation, I'd think."

"True," Fuji agreed. "And it might also tell us what kind of object it is after."

"But how about what we've already seen," Tezuka contemplated, and he gazed through the room, trying to sort out his recollections. "If we look at its abilities… when we first came here, you fainted."

"I probably accidentally ran into the spirit trying to take down the wards. It failed and I got knocked out," Fuji explained, sounding a little sheepish.

"Then the cat," Tezuka added, while Fuji replaced his empty teacup on the table.

With a sigh Fuji dropped back against the pillows. "Maybe the spirit had hoped the cat, as a familiar, could enter the house. When that failed, it used an illusion to gain an invitation from us and when that was refused, it drew blood."

"And that eventually allowed it to enter," Tezuka finished the tale, nodding. It made sense, would even have been logical, if the entire premise was not made up of things that had no place in his well-ordered world. He frowned. "But why that corpse in your locker?"

"A warning, maybe," Fuji shrugged. "Or a message. Telling me it had already entered and would be back for more blood. It's difficult to tell."

Tezuka turned that piece of information over in his head. There were still too many gaping holes to understand the complete story, but the picture was starting to shape. Though unbidden another idea rose to his mind.

"Fuji…" he began, however Fuji abruptly started coughing.

Tezuka bit his lower lip as Fuji hunched over, pressed his hands in front of his mouth and tried to breathe. The coughs echoed grotesquely in the silent room, and when it was over, Fuji exhaustedly leaned back. His entire body was shaking.

Carefully Tezuka reached out and rested his hand against Fuji's forehead.

"I think you're running a fever," He gently said, "Maybe you should sleep a while. I'll go and see if I find anything for that cough."

Fuji did not protest, and Tezuka's worry rose. A quick glance at the clock revealed, that his parents would arrive in two hours at best.

"What did you want to ask?" Fuji's question interrupted his thoughts, while he was trying to stretch out on the couch.

"Nothing important," Tezuka immediately replied, and then cursed himself for that automatic response. Fuji merely waited in silence for him to voice his idea.

"You said when we encountered the cat, it was an illusion built on the animal's corpse," Tezuka finally ventured, firmly suppressing the nausea that assaulted him when he thought of the mess of intestines and blood he'd seen.

"With Mori-san… was it the same?"

Fuji blanched. "I… don't think so. But to be honest…"

He swallowed and Tezuka found his own trepidation mirrored in his friend's eyes.

"It is possible."

Tezuka turned away. His eyes once again were drawn to the undisturbed scenery outside, but the mere idea he had walked out there with a corpse made his stomach turn. He felt dizzy, too, though that could have been caused by a lack of food as well as the excitement.

"There is one other thing I noticed," Fuji eventually said from his cocoon of blankets, his voice barely above a whisper. "That spirit is taking care not to endanger your life – it cut your right arm and nowhere near your wrist."

Tezuka pressed his lips together as cold dread settled in his heart.

"I, on the other hand, am currently serving as the spirit's tool to make you do its bidding."

_tbc_

* * *

_Please feel free to share your opinions and impressions with me. Also, if you find grammar or spelling mistakes or anything else wrong - please tell me!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters.

* * *

Thank you everybody for the wonderful reviews! As I'm currently abroad for study, my internet connection is a little shaky, so in case the formatting of this chapter looks weird, please forgive me. I'll try to change things as soon as I get back home (though that will be March next year ^^;)

Vhii1217: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. For now things will calm down a little; and well, the entire fic is looking to be around 26 chapters right now. So, a couple of things will happen before it's all over and those aren't very pretty ^_~

Koshi Sekisen: Thank you very much for reading and reviewing! I'm glad you like the fic until now, and I hope the plot will hold some surprises further down the road. For now, Tezuka and Fuji shall –as you said – take a rest and try to puzzle things out. As for Mori and the Nakayamas… their part will become clearer further down the storyline

tennis-player: Thank you very much for reading and reviewing! Fuji and Tezuka are both in dire need of a break, seeing all that has happened to them. Lucky for them, they're also going to get one, plus time to try and figure out what's going on. (And also think about who actually got whom involved in the entire affair ;-) )

Scarlette Shizuru: Thank you for reading. Tezuka's mother is going to play a bit of a larger role in the next chapter, since you're quite right that she is very likely to interfere when something happens to her child. But then again, I see her as the woman who would also understand when it's better to leave the questions for a later point of time. As for yaoi – not really. My intention is to let them grow closer, but not exactly cross that line.

Yoshikochan: Thank you very much for reading and reviewing! You raise some very good points indeed. The Nakayamas themselves shall play quite a part later on in the story, though for now they're far away from the action. Their behavior during the phone conversation was supposed to reflect how they, as well as Fuji, preferred not name their problem – on one hand they all like to pretend everything is as usual, on the other, both parties are a bit wary of each other. Which is also where Yumiko comes in – but more of than at a later point.

And a big thank you to Mesonoxian and Viri9ian FuraMashi.

* * *

_Twelve_

Oppressive silence hung over the two of them, while outside the sun continued its westward journey. Already the light was turning golden, making polished wooden furniture sparkle and Tezuka had to squint when he turned his eyes toward the wide window.

No movement disturbed the picturesque scenery. If not for the dull pain emanating from his arm and the grim expression on Fuji's face, he'd be unable to believe anything horrid could have occurred here. Too tranquil was the atmosphere, too perfect their surroundings – but to his heart it all appeared to mock his inner turmoil.

A "what does that mean?" weighted heavily on his chest, yet he dreaded the answer. Fuji being the spirit's tool could easily translate to his life being of no consequence; yet on the other hand it could also imply the spirit's need to keep him alive.

It better would, a small part of his mind declared viciously, if Fuji came to harm, he'd do everything in his might to thwart the spirit's plans. As if he had read Tezuka's thoughts, Fuji broke the silence.

"You don't need to worry so much," he assured him, "That thing won't harm you."

"And what about you?" Tezuka asked; a little sharper than he had intended, but Fuji's omission stung something deep in his chest.

"Well," Fuji shrugged, "From what I can see, it couldn't care less whether I live or die. So I should be safe as long as I'm careful."

Tezuka pressed his lips together. "There is no way for us to hide from this spirit?"

Fuji blinked and exhaustion was plainly visible on his face, though for a moment it was pushed aside by surprise. Tezuka usually stood up to challenges, solved problems and faced difficulties with a face so straight most adults became envious.

"I think…" said Fuji, shook his head and sat up a little straighter, "I don't know of any. There might be, but considering how powerful this spirit is, it might not work."

Tezuka sighed and turned to gaze outside, where the snow gleamed golden. He hesitated a split second, but then the words left his lips.

"And to destroy it?"

Fuji's eyes widened, he turned to stare at Tezuka in disbelief, his tiredness forgotten. For Tezuka to even entertain such an idea …With a deep breath he forced his mind to return to the matter at hand.

"Actually, there might be," Fuji replied, stifled a cough and added, "Though it certainly won't be easy as long as we neither know what kind of thing we're actually dealing with, nor how strong it is. But for now I think it would be better if we dealt with whatever the spirit is after instead."

It was hard to imagine any object worth the trouble that had been brought upon them, Tezuka realised. His mind had warily accepted the supernatural events he had witnessed with his own eyes, but those abstract concepts Fuji kept mentioning were harder to grasp.

Fuji pulled the blankets a little higher around his chest before he answered. "We're only of interest to that thing since we're somehow connected to what it is after. It should be easier to cut those connections than to deal with an opponent of unknown strength."

Tezuka nodded thoughtfully and almost missed the small shudder than ran through Fuji's body. He needed to make more tea, he thought; but Fuji continued before he could get up.

"If everything goes well, the Nakayamas will have understood the message and take measures to relocate said object. They'll probably gather your connection to it has become known and …" He started coughing.

With worry Tezuka watched how Fuji leaned forward, unable to do anything but offer Fuji the remains of his own tea the moment he fell back against the couch, breathing heavily.

"Here," said Tezuka, and cold dread spread in his chest once he noticed Fuji's hands were trembling too much for him to hold the teacup. Wordlessly, he helped guide the cup to the other boy's lips and once Fuji had drunk the rest, Tezuka stood.

"You should lie down and sleep," he told Fuji, "I'll go and get your clothes, they're probably dry now, and you should get as warm as possible."

* * *

The sound of a car close by rose Tezuka from his slumber. Shadows had almost completely swallowed the living room, while the sky outside still remained a pale blue.

A small book titled "Ancient Myths and their Origins" rested in his lap; he'd tried reading up on the issue in order to assuage the worries plaguing his mind. Yet little of it had seemed relevant and the question, if and when the spirit would come back had kept distracting him.

He must have been more exhausted then he thought to have fallen asleep with the threat of the spirit's return hanging over their heads. The sound of a car door opening, a sharp contrast to the silence, made him straighten up and turned to wake Fuji.

Sweat beaded Fuji's forehead, his breathing was laboured and a frown crossed Tezuka's face. He'd hoped his measures would have prevented Fuji from getting ill, but he had been too late. Or maybe it had been not enough.

With a shake of his head Tezuka got up from his armchair and approached the couch.

"Fuji," called Tezuka and gently rested a hand on Fuji's shoulder.

Fuji stirred in time with the doorbell's ring.

"My parents are here," Tezuka said, observing worriedly how long Fuji's eyes needed to focus on him, "We need to go home."

A slight nod was all the response he got

"You need to get up," he told Fuji, who mumbled something incomprehensible in response. Tezuka contemplated carrying him. Even though he felt tired himself, carrying Fuji wouldn't be difficult. However a small voice in the back of his head told him to give Fuji a chance to walk on his own; neither of them liked showing weakness after all.

Compassion might not be his strong point, but he was capable of small, silent gestures now and then.

"I'll let my parents in," Tezuka announced and turned to leave the room, giving Fuji a chance to gather himself.

His mother's inquiring gaze met him head-on the moment he opened the door, and he barely had time to catch sight of his father's sheepishly expression before she started talking.

"Kunimitsu," said Tezuka Ayana in a voice that allowed for no arguments, "Just what exactly is going on here? Your father told me you were in a snowball fight."

The way she pronounced "snowball fight" made it clear she did not believe a word. Tezuka swallowed and instead of replying he stepped back, letting his parents enter.

"While I'm quite aware that snowball fights are nothing out of the ordinary in this season," his mother continued, unfazed by the dim light of the entrance room, "Please explain to me why you had to have one this far away from your school on a school day."

Should he tell her the truth, Tezuka wondered, and his chest felt suddenly heavy. His mother was tense; not yet angry, but if he lied she'd explode. If he told the truth…

A frown appeared his face and he opened his mouth, even though he had no idea what to say.

"Good afternoon, Tezuka-san," a hoarse voice cut into the conversation, "I apologize for the troubles we caused you."

Ayana's piercing gaze left Tezuka glanced over to Fuji. A guilty wave of relief swept over Tezuka as he turned to look at Fuji, thankful for the timely interruption. While Fuji looked certainly much better than earlier that day, to anybody else his appearance was a far cry from normal.

"Don't mind it, Fuji-kun," Ayana replied, eyeing Fuji critically, "How are you doing? I heard you fell in the lake."

The shadow that crossed Fuji's face at the reminder was gone too fast for anybody but Tezuka to notice. His mother was busy studying Fuji's pale complexion, the slouched posture and the way he leaned against the doorframe. It would have looked relaxed, but Tezuka knew that the door frame was probably the only thing keeping his friend upright.

"I'm … as fine as I can be, considering circumstances," answered Fuji with the ghost of a smile.

Ayana nodded. Her lips pressed together in a firm line and Tezuka knew he was expected to answer to her later on. For now she accepted that other things were more important.

"You should get into the car," she ordered, visibly concerned about the condition the Fuji was in. "Kunimitsu, there's another blanket in the trunk."

Tezuka nodded dutifully and went to collect their coats.

"You should lie down and try to sleep in the car," Ayana told Fuji meanwhile. "Kuniharu and I will lock up and then we'll be along immediately."

Fuji nodded weakly and stepped aside as Tezuka's parents left the entrance room for the corridor. Tezuka let go of a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding the moment they were out of earshot. His mother would give him hell the moment Fuji was no longer present.

Still, right now the threat felt duller than usual. Actually it felt nicely normal when compared to the madness he had faced today. When just a few hours earlier he'd come face to face with being responsible for Fuji's death, facing his mother's ire seemed almost enjoyable.

He shook his head, dispelling those contemplations, when Fuji took an unsteady step toward him. His friend's composed façade had almost caused him to overlook the flushed cheeks and glazed eyes, but up close Tezuka could feel the unnatural warmth radiating from Fuji's body.

Instead of struggling with the coats, Tezuka placed his both coats over Fuji's shoulders, frowning as his friend stumbled under the increased weight. Carefully he grasped Fuji's upper arm and proceeded to steer him out of the door, away from the horror and insanity this house had brought upon them and to the car.

* * *

Tezuka blinked the car slowed to a stop. He must have fallen asleep at some time during the drive; night had completely fallen by now and a familiar scene greeted his tired eyes. Soft light poured out of paper-shaded windows into the snow-covered yard, making the white blanket glow in the darkness.

A dull pounding in the back of his head had him longing for his bed and to sleep a long, long time until the chaos in his mind cleared. His clothes felt stiff, uncomfortable, and a frown crossed his face when his arm started throbbing.

With a sigh Tezuka straightened up and turned to glance to his side, careful not to disturb Fuji's sleep. His friend's head rested on his shoulder, he felt his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. And even through four layers of cloth, he could tell that Fuji was running a fever.

Just when his father shut off the engine, his mother turned around.

"Kunimitsu," his mother inquired, "Is there any way for us to contact Fuji-kun's relatives?"

Tezuka wearily shook his head. "His parents are currently abroad, and as far as I know his sister is on an excursion."

"He's home alone?" Tezuka's father exclaimed surprised, and Fuji stirred at the noise. The glares Tezuka Kuniharu received from his son and wife made him fall silent instantly.

"Well, it's probably too late to call today. But we need to contact somebody first thing in the morning," his mother stated, got out of the car. Tezuka shivered as cold air rushed inside and unconsciously clutched Fuji's body a little closer to his chest.

He could access his friend's emergency contacts due to his position as Seigaku's team captain, but as this situation did not quite qualify for an emergency, he hesitated to make use of them. Should Fuji's condition worsen over night, however, things might change.

A cold shudder ran down his spine.

With a shake of his head to banish the dreary thoughts, he opened the car door. Fuji's face scrunched the moment the icy breeze came into contact with his skin, but he did not wake up. Tezuka frowned, then tightened his hold on Fuji and lifted him out of the car.

The air bit his cheeks, easily penetrated his clothes and Tezuka bit his lip to keep his teeth from chattering. Fuji's body was a warm weight in his arms, like a life-sized doll. For a moment his mind flashed back to the moment Fuji had lain on the ice, motionless, soaked and frightfully close to death, and the memory threatened to freeze him.

It didn't fit with his image of Fuji for the other to be still and silent in his arms. Even when Fuji felt under the weather, he regularly waved aside all concerns and kept a smile on his face.

But then again, everything that had happened today clashed horribly with his perception of reality, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and sleep.

And maybe tomorrow things would look different.

* * *

On Sunday, Tezuka woke to twilight. At first he thought it was still dawn; his body felt stiff and his heavy eyelids refused to open. The world only slowly shifted back into focus and his alarm clock announced it to be ten thirty in glaring red letters.

Two hours later than his usual waking time on weekends.

His head pounded as he sat up, even the dim light from the cloudy sky outside too bright for his sensitive nerves. Every muscle in body ached when he moved; hard from having slept in an uncomfortable position. And in spite of this, his body still desired to sleep more.

A movement near him drew his attention away from his own aches and sores for a moment.

Straightening up, he glanced over to Fuji on the bed next to him. The other boy was sleeping fitfully, breathing harshly and his cheeks were flushed. Strands of hair clung to his sweat-covered forehead, and belatedly Tezuka discovered a small towel on the pillow next to his head.

Apparently his mother had been in to see to them, and thankfully had not woken him.

It was a miracle, considering how concerned for answers she had been last night. Only Fuji's condition had saved him from having to answer her questions, and no logical, reasonable, credible explanation had come to him overnight.

The events of yesterday lingered, grotesque, fantastic and yet horribly real. He had an aching cut on his arm to remind him of everything that had happened, even though in the familiar surroundings of his own room it all seemed too absurd.

A small voice tempted him to lie back down, told him that he would be safe in the walls of his own house, and free to forget. Instead Tezuka shook his head and got up. He needed to have a look at the cut on his arm, preferably before his mother noticed it; and maybe get something for Fuji.

As soon as he had finished his shower and emerged from the bathroom, feeling a little more human, he encountered his mother in the corridor.

"Good morning, Kunimitsu," she greeted, and behind the jovial tone there was the same steel he had noticed last night, "Did you sleep well?"

Tezuka nodded in reply.

"Good, there's breakfast downstairs. I'll just check on Fuji-kun and then I'll be along."

The lights were switched on in the kitchen, since the thick clouds outside hardly let enough sunlight pass to see by. He noticed that the layer of snow covering their backyard had remained unchanged, and underneath the dreary sky everything looked bleak and dead to him.

Tezuka picked a little at his breakfast, still wondering what he should tell his mother.

He couldn't confront her with the truth. Not only would she never believe it, she'd probably start worrying about his sanity, and the consequences were simply unpredictable. The story Fuji had made him disclose to the Nakayamas appeared to be the most logical choice, even if it didn't accord for how Fuji had come to fall into the pond.

But she'd know he was lying. And even the most logical explanation could not fool his mother's instinct.

He let his chopsticks sink when he heard her approach.

"Don't you like the food?" she questioned, noticing how little he had eaten.

Tezuka hurried to shake his head. "No, I'm just not hungry."

Ayana sat down on the chair opposite him. "I see. Does that have to do with whatever happened yesterday?"

He couldn't stop his body from stiffening, and his mother naturally picked up on the tense set of his shoulders.

"You know, I'd really like to know why you had to go there on a school day," she said. Tezuka barely dared to breathe under her watchful gaze. "Returning to look for Fuji-kun's student ID is a good argument, but you called around midday. The trip takes at least three hours by public transport and as far as I'm aware, your lessons end at twelve. I wonder if a student ID was important enough to make you both skip class."

Tezuka couldn't look into her eyes. He wanted so badly to share the knowledge she demanded, but his lips wouldn't move. His mind was frozen, stuck between two antipodes and incapable of escaping the situation.

For once, acting logical and being honest did not result in the same thing.

"Ayana," Tezuka Kunikazu called from the doorway, before he stepped into the kitchen. His expression was grave, his mouth set in a firm line. The family phone almost disappeared under the sleeve of his Haori, yet Tezuka's subconscious started to make a connection.

Kunikazu turned to Ayana.

"Please let the issue rest. At least until Fuji-kun has recovered."

_tbc_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **PoT isn't mine. And that's probably better. :P

**Warnings: **Blood and gore in general, but none for this chapter.

**Reviews**: Thank you very, very much to everybody who left a review - and also to everybody else reading. It means a lot knowing that other people too the strange ideas my brain cooks up. A big thank you to lemon-and-chain, Koshi Sekisen, Scarlette Shizuru, Cielo Tierra and Mesonoxian. You guys are awesome! I apologize for not writing detailed replies this time around, but time is currently a bit short on my end (not to mention the shaky connection that is screwing the format, but I hope it remains legible), but I will get back to you next time. :)

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* * *

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_Thirteen_

Tezuka looked up in surprise at his grandfather's intervention. He had expected facing an inquisition squad made up of his mother and grandfather, rather than one of them deciding the matter had to be left alone.

His mother frowned unhappily and eyed Kunikazu.

His grandfather's expression was grim, and Tezuka could feel dread coiling in his stomach. Had the Nakayamas contacted him? Had they told him the truth, an altered version or something that made him and Fuji appear insane?

Were there other bad news?

"I see," his mother said after a moment. Tezuka swallowed and his chest tightened as she stood up and started walking away. Only when she was already out of the door, she stopped. Without turning around she added: "Whatever is going on, please try to get it settled soon."

Tezuka pressed his lips together and found he couldn't watch her leave. Instead he gazed out of the window and found the sky outside overcast again, clouds as white as the snow on the ground. Hadn't it been for dark browns and greens of the frozen vegetation in their backyard, he might have not been able to tell sky and ground apart.

Everything looked so cold, desolate; much like he felt. He wanted to tell his mother everything – because even though his mother pretend to be angry, he could see that it hurt her not to know what was going on. And any lie told now would further the harm.

His grandfather sighed gravely and the noise tore Tezuka from his contemplations.

"Your mother is right," Kunikazu said, "We ought to get this over as soon as possible. Finish your breakfast and then come to my study."

Glancing down at his food, Tezuka knew he wouldn't be able to eat much more right now. Not with the new burdens on his heart weighting him down. Still, he nodded obediently and picked up his chopsticks again.

A dull pain ran through his arm and Tezuka gritted his teeth. He had changed the bandages this morning, but the wound was far from healing and he could only pray it hadn't gotten infected already. The memory of cold metal touching his skin and effortlessly cutting through into flesh and muscle beneath made him queasy.

"You know," his grandfather added thoughtfully, "maybe you should bring Fuji-kun along. Only if he's awake and feeling better, of course, but I think he should be there. This concerns both of you after all."

Tezuka lifted his head in time to see his grandfather glance away. There had been an odd, flat tone in his voice he didn't recognize, but when Kunikazu turned around, his expression was as collected and serious as ever.

"I'll be waiting for you."

And with that Tezuka was left to a breakfast he could not eat.

* * *

Fuji was conscious when Tezuka came back to his room, and leafing through one of Tezuka's older books. With the room lit in a soft golden light, for a moment everything that had happened appeared like a lie. The books, the comfortable temperature, the familiar furniture – how could it have been that just one day ago they had been standing at death's door?

Fuji glanced up when the door closed and greeted him with a small smile. The weariness in his eyes however made Tezuka's stomach sink. Denial's soar had been short-lived.

"How are you doing?" Tezuka asked and sat down on the bed's corner next to Fuji.

The flush had gone from his friend's face and his eyes had lost their feverish shine as well, but he still remained too pale. There were an opened pill package and a bottle of water standing beside the bed, and with a frown Tezuka realized that Fuji's condition probably hadn't improved at all.

"Better," replied Fuji and managed suppress a cough. Then with a tilt of the head he added: "Though I'm afraid I'll have to occupy your bed a little longer. I haven't gotten hold of my sister yet and your mother refuses to let me go home before that."

Tezuka nodded, silently agreeing with his mother.

"I don't mind," he said. The idea of Fuji out there alone had the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Icy horror still stole across his heart when he recalled that phone call and the following hours. As long as that spirit was after them, he didn't want to let Fuji out of his sight.

"Thank you," Fuji smiled. Then the gentle curving of his lips melted away and was replaced by a graver expression. "Was there any reaction from the Nakayamas? Or indication thereof?"

He wondered if he should tell Fuji about his grandfather's request. The moment he told him, Fuji would inevitably demand to join them in his grandfather's study, yet Tezuka wasn't sure if doing so wouldn't strain Fuji's already weakened condition.

Tezuka swallowed, hesitated for a moment, but then realized that Fuji was second to only his mother when it came to seeing through him.

"I think they called my grandfather," he told Fuji and fixed his gaze on the bed covers.

The other's posture immediately straightened. "Do you know what they told him? I mean related to that spirit," Fuji inquired with an atypical sense of urgency.

Tezuka frowned, trying his best not to let the anxiety that blossomed in his chest at Fuji's reaction show. "I'm not sure. Actually my grandfather only asked to speak with me about what happened, so I'm not even sure the Nakayamas called him."

"But you do think so." Fuji protested immediately and Tezuka fell silent. Seigaku's captain was not inclined to share the details about the confrontation with his mother that still had him feel unsettled.

Seeing his unease, Fuji fell back, shook his head and then, shyly, placed his own hand on Tezuka's.

"I'm sorry, I keep forgetting this must all be one huge nightmare to you," Fuji said, his voice a little lighter than before, "It's just … well, to be honest, it's not much different for me. I did know such things could happen, but I just never expected them to happen to me. Artefacts that draw powerful entities are exceedingly rare and the probability of getting involved with some sort of a spirit because of one is so small."

A cough interrupted Fuji and Tezuka felt his hand trembled. Those pale fingers looked much smaller than his own, which was strange since he could remember a time when Fuji had stood at almost the same height as him.

"And now I'm rambling. Must be those meds, so please bear with me," Fuji continued, "If I had known what would happen I would have told you the first time. I would have never come back for that stupid student ID had I known, no matter how much of a hassle it is to get a new one."

Finally Tezuka lifted his head and found Fuji's face close to his own. He could have counted his eyelashes, yet his gaze was mesmerized by the sparkling blue of Fuji's eyes. Rarely had he had the opportunity to observe them so close.

Fuji offered him a smile tainted by regret. "If I had known how much trouble that would have spared us…"

Tezuka swallowed down the lump that had been obstructing his throat and shook his head. "You couldn't have known. Nobody could have."

His words had little effect.

"But I should have," Fuji replied and his fingers unconsciously tightened around Tezuka's hand. "I saw the clues and couldn't piece them together. And later, when I told you the spirit wouldn't be able to track you, or that it needed you for the wards – I really shouldn't have misjudged the entire situation so badly."

Before Tezuka could protest, Fuji's gaze dropped to Tezuka's arm. "Does it hurt?"

"Not at all," Tezuka lied and Fuji glared at him, but a coughing fit stopped him from objecting. The dry, hacking sounds sent a shudder down Tezuka's spine and he could only helplessly watch as Fuji bent over. His hand felt cold where Fuji had taken his away.

"Don't worry about it; I'm taking care of the injury. It will take a little to heal, but it'll be as good as new once it does," Tezuka told Fuji once his friend's breathing had calmed down. "And you should know; if you hadn't been there those times we encountered the spirit, I probably… well, I don't think we'd be sitting here and talking now."

Fuji paled and Tezuka was silently glad his words had gotten the desired effect.

"I would have never even known what was happening," he added, "And I can't even begin to try and form any kind of opinion on the situation, much less of being able to guess what that spirit is going to do next."

The sharp look Fuji gave him told him the other didn't entirely believe him, but changed the topic anyways. "As you mention that, you said the Nakayamas called your grandfather..."

Tezuka nodded and stood. "I'm not sure what they said, but he's waiting in his study," a small bout of guilt attacked him when he remembered how long his grandfather had to be waiting by now; "I should better go and meet him now."

"Tezuka…" Fuji glanced up at him, the unspoken question loud in the air between them.

A sigh left Tezuka's lips. "You can come along, too."

* * *

When Fuji emerged from the bathroom, Tezuka glanced up from the book he had attempted to read. His mind had been too busy with other, more important questions to concentrate on the letters in front of his eyes and he hoped the following conversation with his grandfather could put his worries to rest.

It felt as if an eternity had passed since he had last sat somewhere without maddening doubt gnawing at his mind, wondering if the spirit would abruptly appear and attack, or if it was already in the house, attacking his family or Fuji.

"Thanks for the clothes," Fuji said and Tezuka raised an eyebrow. The navy jumper he had given Fuji looked more like a dress on his team mate and the sleeves went far past his finger tips.

Tezuka put the book aside and stood up. "I'm sorry I don't have anything else." He said, while a part of his mind wondered just when he had grown so much taller than Fuji.

"I don't mind," Fuji replied with a hint of his usual cheerful smile, "It's comfortable."

With a slight shake of his head Tezuka left the room. The air in the corridor was cooler, but Fuji appeared unfazed. The stairs didn't give him any trouble either and if it hadn't been for the occasional cough and Tezuka's knowledge of the fever medication, he'd never have guessed Fuji to be sick.

The closer they got to Kunikazu's study however, the heavier Tezuka's heart became. His mind began turning over possible venues of discussion, yet he couldn't find any probable answer. He took a deep breath before he knocked.

"Come in," a voice called from inside and Tezuka was glad to find his grandfather calm once he entered. The older man didn't like waiting much, but apparently this time was an exception.

"Fuji-kun, Kunimitsu," he greeted, "Please sit down."

Tezuka crossed the traditional room, and the tatami felt warm underneath his feet. His grandfather sat behind a low table with four cushions placed around it. Behind him was a large shelf filled with books and wooden boxes and similar shelves occupied the other side of the room as well.

"Tezuka-san." Fuji returned and bowed before following Tezuka inside, "I hope I'm not being a bother."

"Never, especially not in this matter," Kunikazu replied, "It concerns you just as much, if not more so, than Kunimitsu and me."

Fuji nodded and sat down.

Tezuka swallowed and his grandfather observed them silently before he began to talk.

"Nakayama Kenta called me last night, and while he did not tell me very much, it was enough to understand the story concerning a forgotten student ID and a snowball fight is a lie."

Kunikazu's gaze rested on Tezuka who felt like sinking into the ground. The more he thought about it, the less he could forgive himself for lying to his parents – his mother was hurt already and he didn't want to imagine the disappointed expression on his father's face should he come to know the truth.

"Apparently you did not tell Kenta very much about what exactly happened either, but went straight to implicate a matter far more serious," Kunikazu paused, frowned and the continued, "I don't understand much of Kenta's work, but I know enough to understand that impossible or supernatural things can occur. Thus I'd ask you to be honest with me and tell me what took place at Kenta's house."

Involuntarily Tezuka found himself glancing over to Fuji, as he still felt too confused to give a coherent summary of the events and how they connected. Fuji straightened up and met Kunikazu's inquisitive eyes head on.

"Back when Tezuka first went to check up on the house I accompanied him and accidentally lost my student ID there, which is why I went back the next day," Fuji calmly recounted and Tezuka barely dared to breathe.

"That second time I encountered a spirit, or ghost, or whatever it was, attempting to break the wards. It failed but in an altered form it managed to draw my blood and as I was in possession of a key at that time, a breaking of the wards was no longer necessary," Fuji continued, omitting Tezuka's presence, the surprise attack from the cat as well as his own fainting spell the first time.

"The situation yesterday resulted from the spirit having found what it was looking for, but incapable of breaking the container it was being kept in. Using me to track down Tezuka, it summoned us both to the house in order to open the box." Fuji's face revealed no emotion.

Tezuka felt cold sweat on his forehead.

"But said box was empty." Kunikazu completed the tale and Fuji blinked in surprise. The old man thoughtfully glanced at the ceiling. "I see."

He narrowed his eyes. "About a year ago Kenta approached me and asked me whether I was willing to keep something safe in his stead. Naturally, I inquired for the reasons, especially since Kenta appeared rather tense about the entire matter."

"It turned out he and his wife had stumbled on some supposedly magical artefact on one of their journeys. They had taken it home, yet as they had become quite known for their collection Kenta believed their house not safe enough to store this particular item," Kunikazu told them and Tezuka dimly recalled the frequent visits the Nakayamas had paid them once, "Kenta tried to explain the exact reasons, but I'm afraid to admit I did not quite understand those."

Fuji tilted his head. "Pardon my curiosity, but you wouldn't know where exactly they picked up the item in question?"

Kunikazu sighed. "I only know they had returned from a journey covering the Middle East and Northern Africa before coming to me, but I don't know if that is where they picked up the artefact," his gaze circled the shelves on the far wall, all which held more books and a selection of fine, engraved boxes, "But allow me a question in return, Fuji-kun. How did you get so familiar with affairs like this?"

For the first time since they had entered the room, Tezuka saw a small smile form on Fuji's face. "My sister is well-versed in most things concerning the supernatural and while she is far more gifted than I am, from time to time I catch a glimpse of ghosts or spirits and suchlike."

Tezuka managed to keep himself from looking at Fuji in surprise – why had he never told him, he wanted to ask, even if he knew the answer himself. Kunikazu only nodded thoughtfully.

"To be honest," the older man said, "I wouldn't believe this, but Kenta and you are credible sources, so you must be right about it."

"Did Nakayama-san say anything about what to do?" Tezuka inquired before silence could settle. Remembering the spirit and its parting words made him increasingly uneasy.

His grandfather glanced at him. "That apparently is a highly urgent matter," he observed calmly, "But yes. Kenta called an acquaintance of his who will come by tonight."

He glanced out his right, where a large window made up the wall of the room, opening to a white garden. The green of the pines had almost completely disappeared and even the trees' dark branches had been frozen white.

"It will be relocated," Kunikazu announced, "The acquaintance is familiar with spirits and will take the item to a safe place and that ghost of whatever should leave you alone."

Fuji nodded, but Tezuka could feel the scepticism lingering in himself. It sounded too easy to be true; even though he desperately wanted to believe it would work.

"Can't it be destroyed?" Tezuka asked with a heavy heart.

His grandfather blinked, while Fuji's smile became strained. The suggestion was unlike him, he realized, but he withheld his grandfather's inquisitive stare. In the silence the wind outside grew twice as loud and the rustling of frozen branches sounded like a storm.

"I would not know about that," his grandfather eventually replied with a deep frown, "But this is an invaluable ancient treasure. I don't think destroying it would be a good measure to take."

Deep within Tezuka's chest a small bubble of anger formed. Whatever cultural value the object might hold, it wasn't worth seeing Fuji disappear underneath a thick layer of ice. It wasn't worth risking their lives.

Yet Fuji did not insist on the item's destruction either, and Tezuka could not think of a valid reason. Relocation seemed too simple, too naïve to work.

But maybe just that was the trick.

The spirit hadn't killed him either when it had lifted the knife against him.

Maybe the solution to their troubles was easier than expected.

"Would you like to see it?" Kunikazu asked suddenly, turning his gaze away from the snow covered world outside.

Fuji and Tezuka exchanged a glance. Curiosity, but also anxiousness lingered in Tezuka's eyes, his entire face surprisingly open and readable to Fuji. Fuji's eyes however, had hardened and no emotion but skepticism visible in their depth.

It was ironic, Tezuka realized and a bitter flavor filled his heart, how this horrid affair made him open up and Fuji retreat even further behind his mask.

"Only if it isn't too much of a bother," Fuji replied politely.

Kunikazu shook his head. "It isn't."

With that he got up; but instead of heading for the door, he turned to the garden side of the room and slid one of the shoji screens aside. Behind the paper construct was a second door, leading outside.

Fuji tilted his head, and Tezuka silently reprimanded himself for having forgotten about this door.

Kunikazu procured three pair of slippers from a cupboard. "Those aren't really made for this weather," he said, "But we won't be outside for too long."

Worriedly Tezuka gazed at Fuji. Going out into the cold without a jacket or solid footwear was suicide for his already weakened condition. Just watching the black and white scenery outside made him feel colder. Fuji's expression however, betrayed nothing and before Tezuka could protest, his grandfather had already opened the door.

The air that hit them felt like ice and burned with each breath Tezuka took.

Fuji shivered beside him, only his grandfather appeared unmoved by the cold. Snow crunched under their feet as they followed an invisible path that led them past the koi pond that had turned into another field of white powder.

It wasn't even a minute before they halted at a stone lantern, but Tezuka couldn't feel his toes anymore. Fuji's lips were already turning a faint shade of blue and every inch of his posture practically screamed at him to return inside.

Tezuka hoped his grandfather would hurry.

When the older man carefully removed the lantern's roof, Tezuka forgot about the dreary atmosphere for a moment. His breath clouded in front of him as he watched what he had always deemed one of his mother's garden decoration objects change into a treasury.

The air was eerily still around them and Kunikazu proceeded to extract a small, simple wooden box from the space within the lantern.

"This is it," he told them and opened the hatch.

Tezuka blinked. To him, the small black stone resting inside was nothing special, yet Fuji beside him nodded thoughtfully. Once again, Tezuka felt horribly out of his depth – was this stone emitting a special sort of power only Fuji could feel? Did it radiate a special light of some sort? Just how could people tell it was so special?

"I see," was all Fuji said, "Thank you for showing us."

He shivered and Tezuka frowned. They shouldn't have come out here just to look at a stone. "We should go back inside," he said and turned demonstratively.

"You're right," Kunikazu agreed, just when Fuji coughed. Seeing the worried gazes, Fuji waved them away and followed Tezuka back at a slower pace.

Tezuka had almost reached the door, when Fuji turned to Kunikazu. "There is one more thing I'd like to ask," he said and Kunikazu nodded at him to continue with a gauging look.

"Before we went for the house the first time, Tezuka told me he was to go to check up on things," Fuji eyed the traditional house in front of him speculatively. The wards of his building were strong; he could feel them even without touching them directly.

"Was there any particular reason for concern?"

Kunikazu shook his head. "Only that their neighbour had died surprisingly, and they were afraid of burglars coming in once it became known both houses were empty."

"I see," Fuji replied.

* * *

The afternoon had almost turned into night, when Fuji finally managed to reach his sister. Tezuka and his mother had ordered him back to bed the moment their little excursion outside was over and if he had to be honest, it had been for the best.

His fever hadn't taken well to the cold outside and he had spent most of the afternoon sleeping or half-passed out as the fever abruptly spiked and left him incoherent. Only now the medication slowly started working. He had blurry memories of Tezuka sitting beside him, reading or talking to him, but he might as well have imagined it.

"Syusuke?" Yumiko sounded out of breath, and he could hear loud chatter in the background.

"Hello there," Fuji greeted and noticed his voice sounded hoarse again, "How are you?"

"Busy, thank you," his sister replied, "You sound odd, though."

Fuji swallowed. He didn't much like the prospect of retelling the events once again, but it was necessary. "It's a long story," he admitted with a sigh, "Remember when I asked you about spirits in the Nikko area?"

There was moment of silence and from the sudden lessening of background noises Fuji guessed that his sister had gone to another room.

"Where are you now?" Yumiko inquired quietly.

"At Tezuka's. I'm running a slight fever and Tezuka-san won't let me leave as long as I'll be home alone," Fuji explained.

Yumiko sighed. "I won't make it back before tomorrow night earliest. Organisation isn't working to well over here, so I can't promise anything, but please tell Tezuka-san I'm immensely grateful."

After a pause she continued, sounding not as worried as before. "So now tell me what happened."

It was Fuji's turn to draw a deep breath. "The owners of the house we went to kept some highly powerful artefact over there and a spirit or something similar learnt of it. So it chased us in order to break the wards and seals and I ended up in a lake along the way."

"Be a little more precise," Yumiko demanded, concern and strictness mixing in her voice.

His hands played with the bed cover. "It was a relocation spell or something. We were in a park near Seigaku when I fell into the water and at that house when I came out."

"And was that item found?" Yumiko asked.

"No," Fuji answered darkly, recalling the spirit's surprise, "The box containing it was empty. Apparently the original had been hidden at Tezuka's house all along."

"And does the spirit know?"

"Not yet," Fuji's gazed over to the window and into the falling night outside. He wondered what time it was in New Zealand right now, how the weather was and whether the spirit had already encountered Nakayama Kenta and his wife.

"And I'm still not certain what that spirit is," he added after a break. This after all, was what he had wanted to ask his sister.

"You don't know what it is?" She asked ominously.

Fuji tore his eyes away from the window and back to the bed covers. The darkness outside unsettled something deep within him, stirring up memories of freezing black water all around him, the light dimmed, distorted and no air.

"I can't place it," Fuji admitted, pulling himself from the petrifying recollection, "Its abilities make no sense. It is hideously powerful, but at times it seems as if it could turn its powers on and off at will. And in one way or another it is capable of either possession or shape shifting. Probably it can also create illusions."

"And use water to switch places," Yumiko added flatly.

The tone of her voice sent shivers down Fuji's spine. She rarely spoke like this and it never bode well.

She sighed. "I'm afraid that's not quite an ordinary spirit you encountered there."

Fuji remained silent and she continued. "First, element control is a rare ability, even among spirits. Some can influence them, but to precisely control them as you described it requires a lot of power. Furthermore, the sudden appearances could imply that this spirit was capable of suppressing its powers and that is highly unusual."

She frowned. "Last but not least, a mysterious item. Very, very few spirits concern themselves with objects, ghosts even less so. And the number of those that would actively pursue items and go to such extreme measures is smaller still."

Fuji's heart missed a beat. "That means…"

Yumiko nodded grimly. "Your spirit is probably no spirit at all."

She hesitated.

"It's either something ancient, foreign and rare. I can't remember ever having heard of such a case before."

Another pause. Fuji held his breath.

"Or you are dealing with a demon."

_tbc_

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Thank you very much for reading, and if you spy a spelling mistake or want to share your opinion - please do so :)_


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** PoT is not mine. I'm merely playing with the characters. ^^

* * *

A big thank you to everybody for the wonderful reviews! They do make me more than happy! On another note, I apologize for the time this update took. I ended up being busier than expected with juggling midterms, making plans for next year and getting to know many new faces (terms abroad are a wonderful thing).

As for reviews:

_lemon-and-chai_: Oh, angst is a wonderful thing. Makes happy endings all the sweeter. And I have to admit at times I'm a sucker for melodrama. And now that you changed your screen name - once I find the time I'm going to read your multiparter. Form what I spied it looks positively delicious ;) *why can't a day have 48h?*

_PWNsomeness_: Thank you very much for your review. And concerning British and Amercian spellings – as a non-native speaker I sometimes can't tell them apart. But usually this results from the fact that I tend to write BE (as learned in school) and spell check turns that to AE. Though sometimes spell check doesn't catch it, or I cling onto what I learned in school. ^^; Hope it doesn't render the fic unreadable.

_yume229_: Uhm, as the demon hasn't gotten what it is looking for yet, there is a very high chance that it will strike again. ^^ Thank you very much for reading and reviewing!

_Koshi Sekisen_: Thank you very much for reading, and leaving those awesome reviews! The spirit/demon is hard to pin down by descriptive words. It's a bit special, and will involve quite a bit of a longer explanation once everything is said and done. Fuji and Tezuka will try to find out as much as possible, but they don't quite have the resources – and need to rest as well. Tezuka's family is an element in the fic I don't find that easy to write – but at least Ayana's reaction came out rather natural. Last but not least, I'm very happy you enjoy reading the fic !

_Scarlette Shizuru_: Thank you very much for reading and reviewing. Well, concerning yaoi – probably not, since with everything else going on, introducing a romantic element into the fic seems a bit much. On Tezuka's parents – uhm, from what I saw in the manga, Ayana was the one who hid a sharp mind behind a sweet smile (a bit like Fuji), the father was most relaxed, and the grandfather the strict one. But I wouldn't quite know how the anime portrayed them ^^

And a big thank you to: _Nadia_, _Mesonoxian_ and _Cielo Tierra!_

Without further ado now onto to the next chapter!

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_Fourteen_

"A demon?" Fuji echoed. The black and white landscape outside mocked him and even huddled underneath two blankets he felt cold. Dark grey clouds almost seemed to touch the ground, enshrouding trees and houses and blurring them until they became mere silhouettes.

"Probably," Yumiko sighed, and the lively chatter in the background at her end contrasted sharply with the mind-numbing silence Fuji found himself surrounded by, "It's hard to discern. If I had seen it in person I could give you a better estimation. But from what you're telling me, a demon would be my best guess."

"I see," Fuji replied and clenched his fingers.

Would relocating the object suffice then? Did the Nakayamas understand just what was after their possession? He pressed his lips together. From what he had seen of the library back in the house near Nikko, the Nakayamas ought to know as much.

But he couldn't subdue the uneasy feeling that settled deep in his chest.

"Be careful," Yumiko advised; her voice heavy, "I'll be back tomorrow night, so try not to engage that thing any further before that. As long as you don't know exactly what you're dealing with or its motives, you should do everything possible to stay away. Regardless of whoever is involved. You know that, Syusuke, don't you?"

A frown crossed Fuji's face as he recalled the cut on Tezuka's arm. Turn away when a malicious spirit threatened a friend? One who had already agreed to said demon's conditions in order to save his own life? A small sigh fell from his lips.

"It probably won't be a problem any longer," Fuji told his sister instead, "They're having the object transferred into somebody else's possession tonight. I don't know who, but apparently it's somebody familiar with the matter."

A sideways glance toward the window confirmed his suspicion that night wasn't that far away. The light had been constantly fading and already those trees and roofs in the distance had been swallowed by darkness.

"Well, that should at least make you and Tezuka-kun less interesting for the demon," Yumiko concluded. In the background Fuji could hear laughter, china clicking and low music.

"But you should still be careful," she reminded him, "There are a couple of things about this demon that don't quite add up. And regardless of whether it is a demon or not – you know spirits and their like are never predictable."

"True," Fuji muttered and a shiver ran down his spine.

He shouldn't be feeling cold, not wrapped under Tezuka's two warmest blankets, yet his fingers were trembling. Something inside him seemed frozen; frozen since the ice under his feet had given away and he had fallen into ice-cold, dark water.

It had been mere seconds, but even a full day later he found himself unable to grasp what had happened. For a moment he'd been trapped under the ice; darkness enveloping him, dragging him down even before he'd registered the cold.

When he closed his eyes, he could still remember the horrified expression on Tezuka's face.

"Syusuke," his sister's voice cut through the dreary memories, "Try to get some sleep. You sound as if you could need it."

Fuji responded with a chuckle that inevitably resulted in a dry cough. His throat had begun feeling sore not even five minutes into the conversation with his sister.

"I will," he promised; his voice hoarse.

"Then do so," Yumiko ordered, before eventually bringing the conversation to an end, "Listen, I need to go. I'll pick you up tomorrow evening, so take care until then and try not to trouble Tezuka's family too much."

A little reluctantly Fuji said goodbye. While he'd practically told his sister everything he knew about the demon, there were still many questions unanswered. His sister probably would be able to cast further light into the affair – she already had given him a valuable clue, identifying the spirit as demon – but things still felt off.

With a sigh he fell back against the pillows and rested one arm across his face, shutting out what little day light remained. The sleeve of the borrowed pyjama felt cool against his forehead. He might have to stay home tomorrow as well unless his condition miraculously improved overnight. His body longed to sleep in, however his mind wasn't quite so comfortable.

Was the matter truly resolved? He couldn't help doubting things could be settled so easily; there were so many puzzle pieces he was still missing. Maybe the fever was addling with his brain, preventing him from seeing the entire picture, but deep in his heart something refused to be put to rest.

While he couldn't be sure if his concerns were justified or if years of listening to his sister's tales had made him paranoid; the discomfort of resting in a strange bed was rather real. Under other circumstances the fact that Tezuka had dropped him in his own bed rather than in a guest room, would have amused him endlessly. Today he felt out of place, and the prospect of spending another day propped up here appeared exhausting.

Yet there wasn't anything he could do, but lay back and try to convince himself that everything would be alright. That someday all of this would be over. That maybe in a not so distant future he'd be watching the cherry trees blossom with Tezuka and they'd be talking about tennis once again.

* * *

Darkness had long since fallen, when the doorbell rang. Tezuka had been in the living room with his parents, watching the news in uneasy silence. His mother cast him sideway glances from time to time, obviously wishing for an explanation.

One that Tezuka couldn't give.

On one hand, he wished she'd ask, just so they could resolve the tension permeating the air. On the other, he dreaded her questions. His mother wouldn't be satisfied with a superficial summary of the events; she'd want to know the details.

So when the doorbell finally rang and the solution of his problems appeared to have drawn a step closer, he barely suppressed a relieved sigh. Ayana pressed her lips together, stood and walked to the door. Footsteps from upstairs told Tezuka, that his grandfather also was on his way.

He hoped Fuji had remained in bed.

"Good evening," His mother said, having opened the door. An icy gust of wind tore into the well-lit corridor, and Tezuka shivered.

"Please come inside," Ayana continued before their guest had a chance of saying anything. With a slight nod, the wrapped figure glided into their house and Ayana hurried to shut the door behind it. From his viewpoint, Tezuka couldn't even tell whether their guest was male or female.

A black coat hid its figure; a black hat and scarf concealed most of its face. Tezuka stayed back, observing from the doorway to the living room, as his mother started with the pleasantries, while his father stood by and watched with unveiled curiosity.

"Thank you very much for inviting me in," the individual eventually said, the moment the scarf had been removed from its face. The voice was male, a soft tenor that betrayed him to be much younger than Tezuka had expected.

"I'm Hasegawa Daiichi, pleased to meet you," he bowed deeply and Tezuka saw his mother smile. His father raised an eyebrow, just as surprised at the young man as Tezuka himself was.

"Thank you very much for coming on such a short notice," a new voice cut into the conversation. Tezuka glanced up and caught sight of his grandfather on top of the stairs. Unlike the rest of the family he appeared the least surprised at Hasegawa's age.

Then Tezuka saw Fuji trail behind his grandfather, pale and with a black Haori wrapped around his shoulders. Fuji caught his eye and cast a soft smile in response to Tezuka's admonishing frown.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Ayana inquired of the guest meanwhile, but Hasegawa shook his head.

"Thank you very much for the offer, but I have to decline," Hasegawa smiled politely, "I hope I don't appear impolite, but since my time is limited, I'd prefer to get down to business."

"Very well," Tezuka's grandfather injected, and made his way down the stairs at a speed that belied his age. "I'm Tezuka Kunikazu; I'll show you the object in question."

"Thank you very much," Hasegawa replied, "Nakayama-san told me to refer to you."

Fuji had followed Kunikazu down the stairs, much to Tezuka's frustration. His parents had quietly disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, sidestepping further involvement in the affair.

"You should go back to bed," Tezuka whispered into Fuji's direction, when his friend had arrived at his side.

Fuji looked after Hasegawa and Kunikazu who were making their way to Kunikazu's study, then back to Tezuka. His usually expressive eyes had turned flat, giving away nothing.

"I'll go back to bed once this is done," Fuji answered and followed them.

Tezuka pressed his lips together. He ought to join his parents in the kitchen. Once this affair was settled, he'd proceed to forget it had ever happened. Even now his mind was sent reeling the moment he started to consider the implications of what he had seen. Like an abyss tempting him to approach, frightening and intriguing. If he looked any closer, learned anymore, he'd lose the ground underneath his feet. One day he'd fall. And then he'd never be able to go back to his old life.

If he could forget about the existence of spirits, he might just come out of this unharmed.

Fuji glanced at him over his shoulder, his eyes still unreadable.

Tezuka shuddered. How deep had Fuji glanced into that abyss? He'd never given it any thought, never suspected his friend might know something capable of tearing his concept of reality into pieces. That disarming smile had made him believe Fuji to be just another boy his age.

But now that he watched Fuji disappearing down the hallway, the oversized Haori enhancing the paleness of his face, he started to realize, that he had never known more of Fuji than the other had wanted him to.

Deep down, he was disappointed that he hadn't noticed any sooner and now he found he wanted to learn more. Not about spirits, demons and supernatural matters; he just longed to understand how Fuji perceived the world around him. To understand his friend a little better.

Tezuka swallowed and started for his grandfather's study.

* * *

He entered the study mere moments after his grandfather, Fuji and Hasegawa had, yet he felt like an intruder. The three were seated on the floor around a small table, and Tezuka had to swallow at the tense atmosphere.

Fuji's expression was unreadable. But the fact that the familiar smile was missing from the gentle face made Tezuka something in Tezuka's chest tighten. His instincts urged him to back out of the room, leave the three of them to execute whatever occult ceremony was required.

In spite of three inquisitive gazes boring into his chest, he took a couple of steps forwards and kneeled down as well. The air was heavy, stifling, but when Tezuka's eyes found the all too familiar object on top of the table, ice spread through his entire body.

The small, plain box he'd seen in his grandfather's hands before rested there, opened and revealing the stone inside for the entire world to see.

If the spirit picked this moment…

How could this procedure be safe? Hadn't Fuji said wards only kept spirits out as long as they had not come into contact with blood of an inhabitant? And this demon had had plenty of his blood. Cold sweat started forming on his hands.

What if something happened? What if this wouldn't conclude those horror-filled days?

"Is the room sealed?" Fuji inquired conversationally.

Kunikazu nodded in Hasegawa's direction who replied with a smile. "As tightly as possible. See the Ofuda in the corners? Nothing that isn't entirely human shall enter this room now."

"I see," Fuji replied in a tone that made Tezuka look up.

Hasegawa caught the contemplative undertone as well. "Would you suggest further measures to be taken, Fuji-kun? I'm well aware your sister is very knowledgeable in this field, so please feel free to speak your mind."

Kunikazu's eyebrows rose and Tezuka could practically see the wheels in his grandfather's mind turning. Within not even a day Fuji had gone from a normal friend of Tezuka's to somebody obviously not so normal.

"No, I fully trust the protection provided by those Ofuda. I was just wondering if they'd still work in case our opponent decided to take another form," Fuji replied with a smile.

"There are only very few cases documented of this protection spell not working," Hasegawa answered, "While we don't know for sure just what we're dealing with, judging from the object in question, those Ofuda should work."

Tezuka noted how Fuji's pressed his lips together a little tighter, but remained silent. Dread settled in his stomach, but Hasegawa's voice cut his contemplations short.

"Is this the object in question?" Hasegawa asked, not making any move to take the box resting in front of him.

Kunikazu nodded. "It's been here for twenty years, I think. I had almost forgotten about it before this uproar started."

A wistful smile crossed Hasegawa's lips. "With many of those objects, the best that can happen is for them to be utterly forgotten. Regrettably spirits live longer than humans and at one point they remember. And if there's only one human remembering as well, it's a receipt for disaster."

A shudder ran down Tezuka's spine. To think more people went through similar experiences – and probably did not survive.

The image of Mori-san stroking her cat appeared in his mind abruptly. Had her death been natural? The question still hadn't been answered, but the more Tezuka learned about the otherworldly, the more he hoped she had died peacefully.

"Forgive my curiosity," Tezuka heard his grandfather ask, "But why exactly is that stone so important? To somebody like me it merely appears to be, well, a piece of rock."

Hasegawa chuckled at the comparison. A thin smile formed on Fuji's lips.

"To anybody but those born with the necessary abilities, it is just a piece of rock. To others however, quite a number of rather unspectacular rocks hold a special meaning. Some qualify as sacred objects, others grant power," Hasegawa nodded to the small box on the table, "This one gives the wielder the ability to open a portal connecting two locations of his own choice."

Tezuka couldn't help recalling how he'd stepped on the ice of the small pond near his school. And had been standing in the Nakayamas' backyard in the next second. A shudder ran down his spine.

"A fascinating ability indeed," Kunikazu commented. His eyes first studied his grandson, who, lost to his memories failed to notice the inquisitive glance. Fuji however met his gaze head on with a small, imperceptible smile on his lips.

Puzzle pieces clicked into place. Kunikazu tilted his head. "Are there other ways for spirits to cross from one place to another?"

Tezuka blinked, but Hasegawa never noticed his reaction. "Depending on the power, some spirits can use elements or objects like mirrors, for example. As far as spirits are concerned, the ability is always conditioned. For others, more powerful beings, no props are needed."

"I see," Kunikazu muttered, stroking his chin, "What are you going to do with it now?"

Hasegawa leaned back. "First it goes to a place where no spirit should be able to find it. After that, there are a couple of things to be done that undo whatever connection has been established between the object and prior owners. That's in order to make people who have accidentally come into contact unimportant for spirits."

Tezuka swallowed. Hasegawa's words promised safety – his own eyes sought Fuji's, but he couldn't read his friend's expression. Only the tense set of Fuji's shoulders betrayed an ounce of uneasiness. Or maybe it was just the fever taking its toll.

They had been sitting here too long. Fuji ought to be back in bed, before his condition worsened any further. He could recall how cold Fuji's skin had been under his fingers far too well.

"That place you'll be depositing it," Fuji said softly, "Could it withstand something stronger than a spirit?"

Doubt flickered across Hasegawa's face. "What exactly are we talking about?"

"Just a rhetorical question," Fuji smiled darkly, "Would it withstand a demon?"

Hasegawa's eyebrows shot up. Tezuka flinched and Kunikazu straightened up.

"A demon?" Tezuka echoed unwillingly and even Hasegawa needed a minute to compose himself.

"That would depend. The strength of a demon is highly individualized, so I wouldn't dare to make a general statement," Hasegawa's gaze wandered back to the box on the table, "But as far as I know, no demon would be interested in an object like this."

The corners of Fuji's mouth twitched. "Indeed," he muttered and Tezuka felt horribly, horribly lost.

Kunikazu frowned thoughtfully. "Wouldn't it be easier to just have it destroyed?"

Hasegawa settled back, visibly relieved at the change of topic. Tezuka felt dread coiling in his stomach. He hadn't understood the point of Fuji's question, but his friend's behaviour left him unsettled. Just when he ought to breathe a little more easily, seeing as their troubles were about to be over, a new weight seemed to settle on his chest.

"Some of these objects can't be destroyed," Hasegawa was explaining meanwhile, "Others, like this, are simply too valuable to destroy. It's like destroying a famous painting just because people quarrelled over it."

Another nod from his grandfather and Fuji coughed. Tezuka worriedly glanced over to him, ready to interrupt the conversation, but Fuji beat him to it.

"I'm very sorry, but if that is all, I suppose I should head back to bed now," he smiled apologetically, "Thank you very much for your patience, Hasegawa-san, and please take good care of this. I've seen enough trouble stirred by it to last me a lifetime."

Tezuka automatically followed Fuji out of the study. They passed the living room in silence, and no matter how hard Tezuka tried to judge his friend's condition from his pace, he found himself unable to tell.

Fuji was walking fast. Sometimes he did that when he was upset, Tezuka had noticed, at other times he was simply cold and wanted to get somewhere warmer fast. He wasn't shivering, but he had pulled the Haori tightly around his shoulders.

Only when they had reached Tezuka's room and the door had firmly swung shut behind them, Fuji turned around with a heavy sigh. In the dim lightening he looked thoroughly exhausted. Tezuka pressed his lips together.

He wanted to do something, anything to make Fuji feel better. Yet he couldn't think of anything.

"Would you like some tea?" he eventually asked.

A small, grateful smile spread across Fuji's face. "Very much," he replied and sat down on the bed, "Do you think it would be terribly impolite if I called Nakayama-san? There are just a couple of things I'd like to confirm…"

Their eyes met and Fuji trailed off into uneasy silence. For the first time since Hasegawa had entered the house, Tezuka found he could see behind the mask. There was doubt in Fuji's eyes, as well as a hint of dread, not unlike what Tezuka himself was feeling.

Couldn't they just put this affair behind them, Tezuka wondered dimly. He would have liked nothing better than go to sleep and forget everything that had happened.

Couldn't they do that, now that things were out of their hands?

Whatever happened from now on had nothing to do with them.

Nothing at all.

"I'll write it down," Tezuka heard himself saying, "Then I'll get you some tea. Black?"

"That would be great," Fuji replied, "And if you could get me some sugar with it, I'd be eternally grateful."

* * *

He'd taken longer to prepare the tea than usual, though he had wondered just what exactly he thought he was doing. Giving Fuji the opportunity to load even more responsibility on those thin shoulders? Wasn't that the opposite of his original intention?

With a shake of his head Tezuka added some cough drops on the tray and then made his way back upstairs. He hadn't seen his mother or father in the meantime, which had saved him from having to answer uncomfortable questions. Neither had Hasegawa and his grandfather emerged from the study.

A small sigh escaped his lips.

Hopefully things would start looking up by tomorrow. At least school would reinstate a small amount of normality to his life. And once the object was gone, everything might begin to settle. His mother would stop demanding answers and life at home would become tranquil once more. Fuji would get better and maybe the weather would start getting a little warmer as well.

The permanent cold was wearing away at everybody's resources. He felt unusually exhausted, and instead of looking for an explanation, right now he'd be happy to simply forget about the matter altogether.

Tezuka shook his head. He could hear Fuji talking on the phone on the other side of the door and entered after a knock. Fuji glanced shortly at him, before turning back to the window.

"I see," he said, "Yes, I know trying to determine the object's origin just by where it was found won't provide reliable results. But, well, I'd just like to know for myself."

From Fuji's tone Tezuka could guess the conversation wasn't flowing as easily as his friend had hoped. It had been while since he had spoken with Nakayama Kenta himself, and Tezuka had a hard time imagining what the man at the other side of the line could be thinking.

It was a painful reminder of how little he actually knew about the people next to him. Like with Fuji, Tezuka had never thought to discuss the supernatural with either of the Nakayamas, so he had no idea how they would act during such a conversation. Those few moments that Fuji had chosen to share his knowledge had revealed a side to him, Tezuka had never guessed existed.

"Yes, that would fit, thank you," Fuji was saying, "It's nothing precise, so yes, it might not be conclusive at all. But for now it suits nicely with what we know so far. You wouldn't know, by chance, if your late neighbour ever travelled to this area?"

Something cold crawled across Tezuka's back. His breath hitched and he sat the tray down a little harder than necessary.

"Well, I can't be certain, but there are a couple of clues pointing into that direction. I'd prefer if that wasn't the case, too," Fuji nodded, gazing out into the night. Tezuka wondered whether it had begun to snow again.

"Yes, I guess that's true," Fuji reluctantly agreed, "Thank you for your time."

After exchanging a minimum of pleasantries, Fuji hung up.

"Is Nakayama-san always that tight-lipped when it comes to significant information?" Fuji asked, and immediately shook his head, "No, forget I asked. Everybody would probably be in his position."

Tezuka remained silent, and poured Fuji a cup of tea instead. With an exhausted smile Fuji accepted the cup. He sat down on the bed once again, dropping the cordless phone on the bedside table. Tezuka pulled a chair next to the bed.

"Thank you," Fuji uttered, sipping carefully at the steaming cup.

"Never mind it," Tezuka replied. Silence settled once again, awkward and heavy. Eventually Fuji lowered his cup with a sigh.

"Tezuka, if I remember correctly, your grandfather might have more than one object here given him by Nakayama-san," Fuji asked, his eyes fixed on the tea.

Tezuka frowned. "Yes, I think so. Why?"

He wanted to inquire why Fuji seemed so anxious when the end to all their troubles was in sight. Why he had brought up demons in the conversation earlier.

A grim smile played on Fuji's lips. "Maybe you should trust Nakayama-san and Hasegawa-san on this then."

Tezuka's eyebrows rose.

"It's just," Fuji continued, "When I was talking to my sister earlier, she mentioned that right now we're only assuming we're dealing with a spirit, one with a highly unusual pattern of behaviour at that. She suggested it could be a demon."

Something in Tezuka's heart clenched. He recalled the frazzled expression on Hasegawa's face before, the gravity with which Fuji had suggested the possibility – and found he didn't even want to know the implications.

Fuji apparently read his thoughts. "If that is true, there are a couple of things that don't add up. As Hasegawa-san said, the stone is rather uninteresting for a common demon. Which means there are two possibilities: Either there's something about this stone we don't know, or it wasn't after this stone at all."

Ice spread through Tezuka's veins. All this trouble – for nothing? For something that wasn't even important? They had almost died and …

"But as I said, that is speculation," Fuji added after a moment, "I'm more than willing to admit I feel more dead than alive right now, so I might be talking nonsense."

Tezuka's breath caught. He wanted to say something, anything. Wanted to tell Fuji that his reasoning was fine; but at the same time he wanted to reassure his friend, that there was nothing to worry about anymore.

That everything would be alright.

"Tezuka," Fuji smiled; the first bright smile Tezuka had seen the entire evening, "Just forget everything I said."

_tbc_

_

* * *

Please feel free to share your thoughts and impressions with me!  
_


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **PoT isn't mine. And that's for the better.

A _big thank you_ to everybody who reviewed! It is always a great encouragment to see that people out there enjoy the odd ideas my mind comes up with, so thank you all very much. Once again, I'm sorry for not being able to respond en detail right now, but I hope you'll still enjoy the following chapter (even after the long wait). As for the rest of the fic, right now it looks as if it might end up being around 26 to 28 chapters altogether...

And the showdown is right about to start. ^_~

* * *

_Fifteen_

Monday passed slowly, in a way only a winter day can. Low hanging clouds swallowed what little daylight the season provided, and freezing temperatures brought all superfluous motions to a standstill.

Even though the dim light outside had Tezuka wanting to stay home, he still made his way through snow-covered streets to school. Patches of ice on the sidewalk posed hidden dangers and more than once he found his feet slipping. The bottom part of his trousers was soaked when he eventually entered the dry corridors, silently glad Fuji had remained home.

Fuji had originally intended to accompany him, but both Tezuka and his mother had firmly convinced him not to. Considering that, while temperatures had risen a little – not enough for the ice to melt yet –, humidity levels had gone up as well. The mixture made for nasty weather coupled with a wind that felt far colder than anything Tezuka had experienced before.

Fuji had still been asleep when Tezuka had left, face flushed and breathing heavily. While it was an improvement over the deathly white pallor he had sported all over the weekend, something had constricted in Tezuka's chest. Buried underneath two blankets Fuji looked too frail, too helpless for his comfort, and Tezuka had had to turn away.

His friend was none of those things – countless tennis matches more than proved the opposite. And that was not even considering how Fuji had stood up to the spirit, urged Tezuka not to give in to the spirit's demands, even at the cost of his own life. His friend was everything, but frail and helpless, and Tezuka found he couldn't stand the impression the scene in front of his eyes created.

"You look tired," Oishi told him before class, passing him the books Tezuka had forgotten about. His sudden departure on Saturday had raised a lot of questions among his classmates and teachers, though luckily Oishi had explained everything away by a family emergency.

"Did something happen?"

Tezuka could see the honest concern in Oishi's eyes and had to swallow before shaking his head. He wished he could give Oishi any sort of explanation – he deserved at least that – yet Tezuka found himself incapable of sharing any of his memories.

"Nothing of consequence," he replied with a heavy heart, while images from that fateful night replayed in his mind. Oishi nodded with a small sigh, accepting Tezuka's silent request to let the matter rest.

"We're probably all a bit under the weather," he said, gazing at the number of empty chairs around them, "About half of our class is sick already, I think. And I heard from Eiji that Fuji called in sick as well."

Tezuka straightened instinctively, while Oishi continued. "I hope it's nothing serious, though Fuji wasn't looking too good last time I saw him. On the other hand, after everything that happened last week, it's not much of a surprise either."

Wearily Tezuka turned his eyes away from Oishi and stared at his textbook in an attempt to block out the memories. Oishi probably had no idea what his words were doing to his friend, yet the worried inquiries were bringing back everything Tezuka was desperately trying to forget.

"Say, Tezuka," Oishi hesitantly continued, "It's not my business, so I really shouldn't ask, but … did they figure out what the entire thing with Fuji's locker last week was about? I mean, for a prank it would have been … quite drastic."

Ice slowly spread through Tezuka's veins. The scene of carnage flashed in front of his eyes; the mangled body, the green ribbon tainted brown with blood. He couldn't find his voice to answer Oishi's inquiry, so he merely shook his head and hoped his face didn't mirror his feelings.

A sigh fell from Oishi's lips. "I just hope nothing like this happens again. Poor Fuji, I'd be utterly shocked if something like this happened to me."

Tezuka forced himself to breathe out.

'It's over,' he told himself. Hasegawa had said so. And Fuji had told him to forget about it.

He ought to trust their judgement.

Tezuka turned to Oishi and mustered all the conviction he could find: "True, but I don't think something like this is going to happen again."

* * *

Monday, for Fuji, was a slow affair.

He spent most of the morning asleep, though once he woke up, he felt a bit better than the night before. Some of the bone-deep exhaustion was beginning to fade and the sensation of having warm feet for a change put his mind at ease.

For a few, blissful hours he was able to relax and not to think about anything, neither about what had happened the days before, nor about the finals in the near future. The books piled up on Tezuka's desk made his conscience waver, yet he was quite confident he'd be able to decently pass those exams even if he stopped studying completely right now.

He started growing a little uncomfortable in the afternoon. For once he wasn't feeling tired anymore, yet Tezuka Ayana didn't want to see him up, nor doing anything as stressful more strenuous than sitting up. Studying, too, was out of question and Fuji was stuck leafing through Tezuka's collection of recreational literature or, alternately, staring blankly at the ceiling.

By three he'd learned far more about fishing gear than he had ever wanted to know. Furthermore he had realized that Tezuka's taste in recreational reading was fundamentally different from his own. None of the criminal novels sounded too interesting, and the rest of Tezuka's books were far too intellectual to qualify for a relaxing read.

In the next half an hour he contemplated risking a scolding courtesy of Ayana in order to try and hijack his friends' computer. On the other hand, a small voice that sounded suspiciously like Eiji, this was a wonderful opportunity to find out what things Tezuka kept hidden in his drawers and under his bed. Especially the later had already been subject of more than one lively locker-room conversation.

Momoshirou, Fuji soon discerned, would be disappointed. While there was indeed a box filled with magazines under Tezuka's bed, it wasn't hidden or sealed, and neither was its content incriminating in any way. The magazines inside concerned either tennis or mountains. Fuji ended up going through those, studying the photographs and the landscapes. It would be nice to go and take pictures like those, he thought absentmindedly.

Before he noticed it, evening arrived and with it his sister.

Fuji was glad to escape from the watchful eye of Tezuka's mother. He liked her; usually she was a fine ally when trying to tease Tezuka, but she'd been treating him as he was made from glass. He was glad to breathe in the cold air, once he stepped outside.

Still, a small part of him mourned that he had to leave before Tezuka got home.

He would have liked to talk to him. Just have a relaxing chat about school, exams and tennis. Plan interesting matches for those few weeks of the school year they had left – now that Nationals were over, they were more or less free to play as they liked.

Yumiko's silence in the car alone told Fuji that his sister wouldn't be having a simple chat with him.

* * *

The moment they got home, Yumiko ordered him to change and get to the living room. A few minutes later she joined him with two cups of tea and an assortment of biscuits. Fuji had made himself comfortable on the couch, while his sister raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently Tezuka-kun and you had quite the weekend," she stated and settled in the armchair next to the couch, "Tezuka-san was a little vague on certain aspects, but I believe I can piece most of it together from what you told me. Though I wish you'd been more careful. Tezuka-san didn't seem very pleased."

Fuji sighed. His sister had always been adamant not to drag anybody uninvolved into affairs of the supernatural – to the point she'd turned making up cover stories into a true art. Until this day their own father had no idea the invisible friends his daughter had always talked about in kindergarten age had been quite real.

"I'm sorry," he wearily said, "I … well, everything turned out far different from what I expected."

"But you said the affair is settled," Yumiko recalled what he'd told her on the phone the night before.

Fuji kept his hands wrapped around his teacup, thankful for the extra warmth. "Yes," he nodded.

"Well, if you say so. Though, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to know the whole story," his sister continued, gauging his condition with a quick glance and deeming him fit for an interrogation, "What you told me across the phone sounded rather odd and from what Tezuka-san told me, I gather nobody but the two of you knows exactly what happened."

Fuji swallowed. The cover story he'd come up with apparently had been an utter failure – and while Tezuka Ayana had warily accepted it, his sister was far less likely to do so.

"The house we went to belongs to friends of Tezuka's grandfather. Their neighbour – Mori-san – had died rather abruptly a few weeks prior and since the area is sparsely populated they were worried about burglars," Fuji heard his own voice turning scratchy and took a sip of the tea, "So they asked Tezuka to go and have a look."

"Those friends of Tezuka's grandfather – mind telling me their names?" Yumiko interrupted.

Surprised Fuji glanced up. "Nakayama."

A humourless smile crossed Yumiko's face. "Thought so," she muttered, and then nodded at her brother to continue with his story.

"When we went to check on that house, I encountered that… thing for the first time. It was testing the wards, then," Fuji said, leaving out his own fainting spell. Though from the way Yumiko tilted her head she had already sensed the hole in his story.

Fuji's fingers tightened around the teacup, forcing himself to carry on with his adapted narrative. "I lost my student ID then, which was why I ended up going back the next day. That was when the spirit took the form of a cat and attacked."

Yumiko nodded thoughtfully. "So that was the first time you actually saw it? As a cat?"

"Yes," Fuji felt a little queasy as his mind easily supplied him with memories of the cat's body, "However that cat was already dead. It belonged to the late Mori-san."

"Who lived next door and also had died," Yumiko thoughtfully repeated, "Are you certain it was the cat? Or just an illusion made to look like that cat?"

"It was the cat," Fuji answered, then started coughing. Yumiko tilted her head, but when her brother failed to offer anymore explanations, she leaned back. "So what happened then?"

After another sip of tea Fuji's throat felt a little less like sandpaper. His voice remained hoarse. "The cat managed to scratch me. I didn't quite realize it then, but apparently my blood sufficed for it to pass the wards around the house."

"What had been the demon's objective at that point," Yumiko concluded, "Care to show me the scratches you got?"

Obediently Fuji pulled back the sleeve of his sweater. Nothing but faint lines were left and Yumiko seemed satisfied. Picking up the teacup she'd set aside earlier, she went on: "But the story obviously doesn't end there. For some reason you encountered the cat's original owner as well, or so you told me."

"Yes," Fuji sighed, "On Saturday it surprised us near school. It had taken the form of Mori-san, though I'm not sure whether that was an illusion or a real body."

"And that encounter near school ties in with the reason how you managed to cover the distance to Nikko in record time, I guess," Yumiko commented, "Tezuka-san has been rather taken aback at how you managed to get there, and yet nobody at school wondered why neither of you turned up."

Fuji glanced away. "I'm not exactly sure how it was done, though it apparently used water as a medium. One moment we were at the lake in the park near school, the next we were by the pond in the Nakayamas' backyard."

"I see," Yumiko nodded. The tension in Fuji's shoulders told her there were quite some things he wasn't telling her, but for now she wouldn't prod. Experiences with the supernatural were often hard to retell, she knew from experience. Furthermore, she trusted her brother enough not to leave out anything important.

Carefully Fuji placed his cup back on the table, before he continued, starring absentmindedly on the carpet. "It had already been able to pass through the wards around the house, but apparently whatever it was after had been kept in a specially sealed box. To open that, it needed Tezuka's blood… but well, the box was empty in the end. The spirit vanished and we ended up calling Tezuka's parents to pick us up."

He leaned back and glanced at his sister.

"I gather it got blood from Tezuka-kun then," she said, her eyes narrowing, "And since he apparently is still fine, he incurred no dangerous injury."

Guilt blossomed in Fuji's chest. He'd been so wrapped up in trying to make sense of everything he'd forgotten about his friend's injury. Tezuka hadn't spoken of it, so it was probably fine. Yet Tezuka hadn't told anybody about his arm either, and Fuji didn't want to recall how that had ended.

"The spirit cut his arm with a knife. The wound had already stopped bleeding by the time Tezuka's parents arrived," he told his sister, resolving to himself to call Tezuka and inquire about his health once this conversation was over.

Or rather, first thing in the morning, seeing as it was already too late in the evening to place a call.

"Do you know if the injury is giving him any further trouble?" Yumiko questioned, studying her brother's reactions closely, "And the knife used – was it special?"

Fuji shook his head. "Neither. The last time I asked Tezuka he told me the injury was healing, and the knife in question was a normal kitchen knife."

"Well, that all is a little odd. A powerful demon using a kitchen knife of all things," Yumiko frowned. "Anyhow, you've never seen what it was after?"

"Tezuka's grandfather showed us the object later," Fuji replied, recalling the icy air, chilling him from head to toe while they'd been standing in the backyard.

"But the demon never told you exactly what it was after?" Yumiko asked once again and her eyes met Fuji's over her teacup. He could see his suspicions mirrored there.

"No," he replied.

"And you haven't seen its true form either, have you?" she continued, "You only saw it as the cat or as Mori-san."

Fuji nodded, feeling numb.

Yumiko put her cup down and sat back. "All in all, your opponent behaves quite odd. I'd name it a demon, seeing it could drag you all that distance while obviously maintaining an illusion or a possession and only needing a medium. On the other hand, few demons would go to such length as to maintain an illusion beyond fooling somebody,"

Fuji's fingers gripped the blanket tighter. He recalled Hasegawa's words from the night before – an object as such would probably not be of interest for a demon.

"So it might not be a demon after all?" he hesitantly inquired.

Yumiko pressed her lips together. "Judging from the power you described, I'd say it clearly has to be one. On the other hand, the behaviour patterns don't fit."

"Well," Fuji supplied, "The object it was after could be used to create portals, mostly, from what I understood. So Hasegawa-san was rather surprised when I mentioned your suspicion."

"Hasegawa-kun?" Yumiko asked, apparently familiar with the person, "I thought he was too busy with maintaining the family temple to actually take outside jobs. But well, he should know what he is talking about, so if he says the object is uninteresting for a demon and the thing doesn't behave like a demon, it probably is something else."

"What else could it be?" Fuji inquired, "I mean, it's too powerful to be a spirit."

"You mentioned the object probably originated in somewhere in the Middle East," Yumiko said, "Depending on where, there're dozens of possibilities. Ghosts and demons are just what you can find all over the globe, but this wouldn't be the first time, that some other being left its original area."

Fuji nodded thoughtfully, while Yumiko's expression darkened. "It also wouldn't be the first time human meddling caused things to happen that have no business occurring."

"What do you mean?" Fuji straightened instinctively. The amazing collection of books he'd seen in the Nakayamas' library. Their odd interest in the supernatural that Tezuka taken for storytelling.

Yumiko pressed her lips together. "I told you before; I can't really do anything but guess until I actually see that thing. But I'm sure you remember what happened when they first started dragging mummies out of Egypt? And while I don't know the Nakayamas very well, they're known to be avid collectors of rare artefacts."

"Yes, I also thought it might be something they brought home from one of their trips," Fuji agreed, and then he bit his lip. In the back of his head, a theory started shaping, "Say, could human interference influence the behaviour of a spirit or a demon?"

"Probably," Yumiko answered immediately, "What are you thinking?"

Fuji's lips twisted into a dark smile. "I was just thinking that, everything considered, our spirit acted rather human."

* * *

Thick, grey clouds covered the sky when Fuji left his house on Tuesday morning. The icy air bit into his skin, but after being cooped up inside for two days, it felt good. A small voice in the back of his head wondered, if finding this freezing air nice implied his fever wasn't gone yet, but Fuji ignored it and took a deep breath instead.

It hadn't been easy to convince his sister to let him go to school today, especially after she'd gotten a good look at him. But after he'd promised to call her to pick him up the minute he started feeling unwell, she'd agreed. Finals were soon, after all.

Fuji sighed, aimlessly studying the leafless trees peeking out from behind snow-covered walls. Spring seemed an eternity away, and he didn't really want to think about everything that came with graduation and afterwards.

Snow crunched under his shoes.

It was a pity exams were so close. They rarely got so much snow in winter and he clearly recalled Eiji mentioning how much he loved snowball fights; and they should have one with the entire tennis club. Maybe invite Fudomine or another rival team from the area along.

Have some fun with everybody.

Had it really been just last week that he'd been making light-hearted plans with Eiji? He couldn't even recall what had been said anymore; not after everything that had happened.

"Fuji," a familiar voice called out and Fuji turned to find Tezuka standing at a street corner, wrapped in a new, black winter coat. His face was barely visible under a woollen cap and a scarf in the same dark, green colour.

"Tezuka," he replied and felt a smile spreading across his face. Although it was subtle, he could see concern in his friend's eyes, and it made his heart a little warmer.

"How are you feeling?" Tezuka immediately inquired.

"A lot better," Fuji answered, "The cough's almost gone."

"I'm glad." A rare smile crossed Tezuka's face, before vanishing immediately. He wasn't sure whether to believe Fuji's words or not, but for the first time in a long while, his friend didn't look like the living dead.

"And how are you doing?" Fuji asked, forcing himself not to mind how the air burned in his lungs, "I've almost forgotten to ask, but how is that cut? If it's not healing as fast as it should, I could ask my sister to have a look at it."

Tezuka shrugged. "It's healing quite fine," he replied, "A week and it will be gone entirely."

Fuji smiled. The frozen muscles in his cheeks protested against the movement. "That's good to hear. I hope the entire affair doesn't bother you too much. I mean, I know everything was happened must have been really strange, but well … it's over and it probably won't happen again."

He could make out one raised eyebrow underneath Tezuka's cap, but other than that his friend's face remained stoic. Fuji found himself a little relieved at the normality of it all – now all that was left to do was to make certain Tezuka suffered no lingering nightmares from the affair.

Which was probably easier said than done, Fuji contemplated. They exchanged few more words on their way to school, due to freezing air that burned with every breath Fuji took. After ten minutes outside, he had lost all feeling in his toes and speaking became difficult.

Tezuka kept a watchful eye on his friend until they arrived at the door of Fuji's classroom, trying to gauge his condition. True to his word, Fuji hadn't coughed during their walk to the school, yet for now Tezuka preferred to err on the side of caution.

He was about to inquire if Fuji truly felt up to an entire day of classes, when Kikumaru had spied them approaching.

"Fuji! Tezuka!" and then the red head had wrapped his arms around Fuji and buried his head in the crook of his neck, "You have no idea how glad I am that you're back, Fuji! Really, you have no idea! Math was hell yesterday, and don't even ask me what happened in physics. It was hell, pure hell."

Fuji patted Eiji's back a little awkwardly, while nodding a goodbye at Tezuka.

"I'm glad to be back too, Eiji."

Math, Fuji thought three hours later, had at least been interesting. The current history lesson didn't manage to hold his attention for longer than five minutes at a time – and his classmates weren't doing any better. Eiji had taken to adding colourful pictograms to the margins of his worksheet, while several others apparently had become thoroughly fascinated with the surface of their desks.

However Fuji didn't feel sleepy, so he found himself staring out of the window, wondering just when the world outside had lost all colours. The tennis courts, the school yard, the streets and the gardens of the houses beyond Seigaku's campus were all covered under a thick layer of white snow. Trees were blackened, dead; and everything else had taken on a lifeless shade of grey.

A shiver ran down his spine.

Usually he didn't mind winter or the cold. Snow-covered fields stretching until the horizon made for a dizzying perspective; glittering ice crystals a beautiful picture motif. But it felt as if this winter had already lasted for too long.

Distractedly he rubbed at the faint lines on his wrist. The scratches were smarting a little, probably from the weather.

If he judged the clouds correctly, they'd be getting fresh snow this afternoon. The air felt ripe with tension already now, so –

Fuji stiffened abruptly.

There was tension in the air; a highly unusual sort of tension. His skin was prickling – but what if it wasn't from the icy air? The burning in his lungs, blackness encroaching on his vision…

Suffocating pressure squeezed down on all his senses, blanketing out reality. Sounds faded, shadows lengthened. The air seemed to flicker, shapes started to blur.

He knew this feeling. Knew this power.

It couldn't be; was the last thing Fuji thought before a sudden, all-encompassing darkness swallowed him whole.

_tbc_

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As always, please feel free to share your thoughts and impressions with me. And just a word of warning in advance, the next two chapters will be quite gory. ^^


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: PoT isn't mine.

**Warnings**: Gore in this chapter. If you're sensitive to descriptions of blood and the like, please do not read, or proceed with caution. ^^;

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A _big thank you _to everybody who reviewed! It's the best motivation there is to keep writing ^_^

_PWNsomeness_: There has been a decrease in ZukaFuji fanfics, but I hope that's temporary. Anyway, I like to end chapters on cliffhangers – so there will be some more in the future ^^;

_Cielo Tierra_: Thank you very much. I don't think Fuji is going to faint again in future chapters, but they will have to confront the demon again. XD Glad to hear you like the way I write the two of them, and one of those days I hope I'll get around to do a suspense fic with all of Seigaku, but here Eiji won't have a large part to play…

_lemon-and-chai_: Well, the demon has gotten a bit impatient. And really, what's school to her? XD One of those days I'd really like to try writing an ensemble suspense fic, just because I like writing the other characters as well (but I guess that'll need a looot of time). For now I'll keep adding more chapters ending on cliffhangers to this story.

_Mesonoxian_: Not over yet, the showdown is just beginning. It'll probably be another eight chapters or more until it's all over.

_Koshi Sekisen_: Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you're feeling better now. I rarely get sick, so either I'm not sick at all, or I'm too sick to really care about anything. Ah well, Tezuka and Fuji have their special relationship, and I'm trying my best to depict it as something between intimate friendship, but not yet really lovers. Their mutually concerned for their wellbeing, and also aware of other things – like Fuji knows about Tezuka's elbow, and Tezuka (at least I like to portray him like that) is aware of how Fuji is a bit smaller than himself.

Yumiko is fun to write. We don't have much information about her, but I like to picture her as somebody intelligent and headstrong, who is very polite and gentle on the outside, but if push comes to shove, she won't let anybody walk over her (or her siblings).

Hasegawa though… err, he sort of appears again, but … read for yourself ^_~

_Scarlette Shizuru_: ^^; There shall be even more cliffies in the future. I don't know why, I just like ending chapters like that. Anyhow, I don't think I know the show you're mentioning, but thank you! Concerning ghosts and demons and all that – I have to admit my own knowledge is limited, and I have a habit of adjusting what I know to fit the plot (in the long run I believe it helps to keep the general plot simple; and as I can't expect anybody to know anything, I'll have to explain the entire thing in the end anyway.)

Thank you for reading, and I wish everybody a Happy New Year! ^_^

* * *

_Sixteen_

Dim light filtered through Fuji's eyelashes.

Unfamiliar white walls greeted his blurry vision, all sound appeared to have vanished and for a moment he wondered where he was. Then the memories flooded back, and with them icy horror.

The demon...

An involuntary gasp left Fuji's lips, and he never heard the door opening. Questions assaulted his mind; why had it returned, what was it doing in their school? Where was it right now?

Was it going after Tezuka again?

Fuji sat up, and only a pair of hands grasping his shoulders firmly stopped him from jumping to his feet. A fierce wave of dizziness swept over him, his vision darkened before he could make out the person in front of him.

"Fuji!" Eiji was calling his name, closely watching Fuji's face. "Fuji, calm down!"

It took a moment and a deep breath, then Fuji had himself composed once again. Eiji was pale, an unfamiliar frown on his face replaced his smile, but there was no franticness in his actions. His hands on Fuji's upper arms weren't shaking. Nothing in his behaviour to betray unspeakable events.

Fuji couldn't keep his voice from hitching. "Eiji, did something happen?"

He didn't care if his eyes were showing how desperate he felt; not when the demon might be far too close, not when it might be attacking Tezuka right now. Not when – Fuji did not dare to finish that thought.

The red-haired boy tilted his head, blinked, but chose not to comment on Fuji's behaviour. "No, nothing happened. You just fainted all of a sudden, and scared the entire class," he replied, "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm okay," Fuji said, and pressed his lips together. He couldn't sense the demon any longer, but it had been close. There was no way he could have mistaken the sensation, this suffocating degree of spiritual power. He hadn't fainted so abruptly on accident.

It was gone now, though.

"You look like hell," Eiji suddenly told him, lips pulled down in disapproval. His fingers tightened involuntarily and Fuji met his concerned gaze head on, "You should have stayed home. Really, if I had had the choice, I would have stayed at home in this weather."

A part of Fuji wanted to run out of the room, make sure that Tezuka was alright; make sure the demon's unannounced visit had caused no harm. Dread coiling in the depth of his stomach warned him not to hope for too much.

There was no reason to believe the demon would have left without causing damage.

And yet here was Eiji, holding onto him as if he was afraid Fuji would collapse once he let go. Eiji, who obviously understood that there was a lot Fuji wasn't telling him – and didn't feel betrayed. At any other time Fuji would have wondered what he had done to deserve such a loyal friend – yet right now he only wanted to leave the bed in the nurse's office as fast as possible.

He brought a hand up and rested it on Eiji's shoulder. With a faint smile he said: "You would have stayed at home regardless of the weather, if given a choice."

"You know I make an exception for tennis practice. But school," Eiji shot back, then shook his head and sat back, "Honestly, just what possessed you to come in today? There's no tennis, and not even anything remotely interesting happening in class."

Fuji shrugged, and made a second attempt to get up. Already there was cold sweat forming on his back. The room seemed to be shrinking with each second he wasted sitting around doing nothing.

"You should stay down," Eiji immediately admonished, "The nurse already called your sister, she's going to come and pick you up. Orders are not to let you leave the bed until she arrives."

"Eiji," Fuji hissed, "This is…"

The unusually serious look in Fuji's eyes tipped Eiji of. An unhappy frown crossed his face.

"Urgent?" He raised an eyebrow, "Yes, but isn't your health more important?"

There was not enough time for explanations. Fuji had half a mind to push Eiji away – to hell with repercussion – and run for it.

"Please, I need to speak with Tezuka," Fuji added, his voice pressed, "Now!"

He feverishly hoped Eiji would understand. Time was running out, might already have run out, and he really didn't want to resort to any unbecoming measures, not against Eiji of all people, nor did he want to lie, but if this was what it took to save Tezuka's life…

If he wasn't too late already.

"Tezuka, right?" Eiji sighed and stepped back, "Your sister is going to have my head."

* * *

Fuji was on his feet and out of the door in a matter of seconds. It took every ounce of self-possession not break into a blind run, and he could feel Eiji's worried gaze boring into his back.

He wished there was time for an explanation. An apology. A thank you. Anything…

But there was no time left.

Both shivered the moment the cold air of the corridor hit them, yet Fuji energetically turned into the direction of Tezuka's classroom. Eiji hurried to follow him, taken aback at the urgency in Fuji's gestures.

There was something else going on here.

And if all the years he had been friends with Fuji had taught him anything, then it was not to interfere when Fuji had that expression on his face.

But he couldn't recall ever having seen his friend this close to panicking.

Halfway up the stairs they encountered Ishida Ken with a bundle of papers underneath his arm, shivering in the biting air and clearly unhappy about his errant. His face lit up when he caught sight of Eiji and Fuji approaching, but their body language was off.

"Ishida-kun," Fuji started immediately, out of breath and not paying any heed to the surprise on Ishida's face, "Do you know where I can find Tezuka?"

"Tezuka?" the other boy repeated, thoughtfully, "He got called out earlier, by some old lady. I heard they went to the student council room; probably for some sort of a conversation. I'm not sure if he's still there, though."

Fuji had gone as white as a sheet. Eiji reached out, afraid his friend would faint again, but Fuji took no note of the hand at his elbow.

"An old lady?" Fuji repeated, his voice absolutely toneless. A frown crossed Eiji's face, he stepped closer, but he couldn't decipher the expression on Fuji's face. A shudder ran down his spine.

Ishida nodded, intimidated.

And in the next moment whatever emotion might have coloured his Fuji's voice was gone. His expression shut off, and not in the familiar smile, but in a cool, unmoveable mask. Eiji pressed his lips together – he recognized the pattern, and it bode no good.

"Ishida-kun," Fuji addressed the other boy once again, "I'm sorry for troubling you, but could you accompany us to the student council office then? Or, if that is not possible, lend me the key?"

The reminders of an already waning smile left Ishida's face completely. For a moment he stared at Fuji questioningly, yet Eiji already knew his friend's face revealed nothing.

"I guess it's important," Ishida shrugged eventually, gathering himself, "Well, I'll just go with you then. Watanabe-sensei probably won't mind if I come a couple of minutes later."

"Thank you," Fuji replied, bowed, turned on his heel and started marching in the direction of the student council room so fast that Eiji and Ishida had to jog to keep up with him.

Ishida glanced at him, but Eiji could only shake his head in reply to the silent question.

Whatever was happening, he sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to a bad end.

The minute it took them to reach the student council office felt like an eternity to Fuji. A part of his mind couldn't stop going over the facts – an old lady, asking for Tezuka…

But the demon's presence was gone.

Maybe it hadn't been the demon in Mori-san's body then? Maybe a rare chance event that another old lady had sought out Tezuka? Energetically he shook his head.

What had happened in the mean time? And why, why, why had Tezuka gone quietly? Or had he?

What about everybody else? Nobody, nothing seemed off. The few students they had encountered in the corridor had appeared perfectly calm. Was this tranquillity real? Was something interfering; something so subtle even he couldn't sense it?

Fuji's stomach twisted in knots, and his hands trembled when he knocked on the door. With baited breath he waited for a reply, but only silence reigned. Eiji and Ishida were both watching him, confused and concerned.

"Could you open the door?" Fuji inquired, his voice audibly strained.

Ishida nodded. He might not have been particularly close to either Fuji or Eiji, but the tense atmosphere told him enough. Something was going on, and while he liked to understand what, now was not the time to ask questions.

"Maybe Tezuka-kun already went back to class…" he suggested, while a click sounded and he pushed the door open. Fuji took a step forward, while Eiji squinted into the dimly lit room.

* * *

A loud gasp echoed, yet Eiji never heard it. The door swung against a fallen chair, and the collision echoed in the empty corridor, but nothing, nothing could tear his eyes away from the scene of carnage in front of him.

Blood covered the floor and the walls, soaked into the dark carpet and spread over floor tiles, was splattered over the desks, chairs and the ceiling. Loose papers sprinkled with red fluttered in an invisible breeze; while others were so soaked the ink started mixing with the blood.

Several chairs were overturned; folders looked as if they had been tossed across the room. Objects littered the floor, the twilight making it impossible to identify the odd lumps sticking up here and there.

Another gust of wind blew through the room from the half-opened window, shifted papers and carried the unmistakeable, thick smell of blood and gore to the three shell-shocked spectators. Outside, the clouds shifted and a little more light fell into the room.

Abruptly the full scale of the scene in front of their eyes revealed itself.

It wasn't just blood, Eiji realized.

There were body parts strewn across the room.

A severed leg in the middle, half on the carpet, half on the tiled floor, still covered by the ripped remains of what once had been black trousers. The fabric hid the torn skin and muscles from view, but the once white sock was bright red. The sight of blood pooling beneath a polished shoe made Eiji's stomach twist.

Pieces of ripped cloth littered the floor, and it was hard to discern if there was skin or tissue attached to it. Some were wet, others formed odd lumps. A large shape rested motionlessly in the far corner of the room, almost completely swallowed by the shadows.

It looked suspiciously like the trunk of a body.

Hideously distorted, with only one leg remaining, the other severed above the knee. Something pale emerged from the mass of darkness, looking suspiciously like a snapped bone. Dark clothes and bad lightening hid what had happened to the upper body, but here and there frighteningly similar spots of white appeared in the mess.

Fuji swallowed. Every hair on his body stood as he wearily gazed further into the room, his brain not yet daring to draw any kind of a conclusion. There was a severed arm, not too far from where they stood. He could even see the watch that was still attached to a hairy wrist. A bit of bone emerged from the other end, still surrounded by tissue and muscle, before it broke off at a jagged end.

The palm was turned up, the fingers positioned to grasp something.

But Fuji's gaze didn't remain fixed there; an invisible force drew it to the desk, usually place of the student council president. How often had he sat on top of it, watching Tezuka put the finishing touch on one document of another?

The seat behind it was empty, yet even the dark wood was splattered with wet, dark patches.

Eiji turned green, and Ishida pressed a hand in front of his lips, violently twisting away. Fuji's mind froze.

A severed head sat atop the desk. Blood was still trickling down from the surface, was pooling over the documents and pens and magazines. A thin rivulet of already dried blood ran from the dead man's lips, down his chin and mixed with the rest of liquids.

No other sign of violence was visible on the unfamiliar face. Eiji didn't know l he ought to be thankful for that; his stomach kept rolling.

"What on earth…" Ishida muttered, one hand clutching the door frame for support.

It isn't Tezuka, was all Fuji was thinking, and for a second his legs threatened to give out. Relief washed over him, just to be replaced by cold dread.

He still didn't know where Tezuka was.

And the head…

Fuji forced himself to look at it once again, to ignore his rebelling stomach, the nausea assaulting him. Even in the dim light he could make out red strands of what might have been tendons, or muscle trailing from the lower end of the severed throat. Pieces of skin floated on the blood surrounding it.

It hadn't been a clean cut, Fuji realized, and everything in him longed to recoil.

Instead he took another step forward, conscious not to step into any of the suspicious lumps on the floor. The smell of blood thickened, mixing with other, illness-inducing elements, but Fuji tried to ignore them.

"We need to call the police," Ishida eventually uttered. He'd gone white as a sheet, and his voice hitched unevenly, "Now."

Fuji merely nodded in agreement. His mind started racing.

The features of the severed head looked familiar. Not Tezuka, but …

Hasegawa.

Fuji's eyes widened. A soundless gasp left his lips, as memories began to flash in front of his eyes. Tezuka's grandfather, the box in the backyard, the conversation.

Hasegawa had said he'd be able to keep it safe.

Yumiko had thought so, too.

All blood left his face, while his mind frantically attempted to make sense of the fragmented ideas flooding it. Everybody had deemed the affair to be over, and while he'd been sceptic, he'd trusted the judgement of his sister.

Where had it all gone wrong?

Or had it? Maybe Hasegawa had failed in protecting the object? But why had the demon appeared at their school? Why had it left Hasegawa's mangled body here? Why had it…?

Why had it killed Hasegawa so violently? Why had it sought out Tezuka once again?

Dread, colder than even the biting air outside, spread through Fuji's body. The picture formed, and it took his breath away.

The object in Hasegawa's possession had been nothing but a decoy. Subconsciously he'd suspected it all along – the box the demon had destroyed back at the Nakayama's house had been richly decorated, while the smaller one hidden in Tezuka's backyard had been plain. Then he'd thought the difference part of a cover-up…

But that had only been one clue.

Why would such a precious object be hidden in the backyard, when Tezuka's house, as the Nakayamas', was surrounded by several wards? He'd felt the small shudder upon entering the study of Tezuka's grandfather – the unmistakeable sensation of passing a strong protective barrier.

That study was probably the most fortified room in the entire house, where wards were concerned.

Fuji glanced through the room. No clue to hint at another person's presence, but the puddle of blood in the centre of the room was large, considering the ceiling and the walls were drenched as well. And the trunk of the body rested in the far corner, surrounded by a puddle smaller than the one in the room's centre.

His eyes found an empty water bottle on the ground.

It might have fallen in a struggle – if there had really been one.

Overturned chairs and scattered papers; he'd seen a scenario like this just a few days before. In the wake of a power used that should not exist. The window wasn't shattered, the door had been locked – the demon had made an exit by its preferred means: liquid.

Unless he guessed wrong, it had taken Tezuka along for the ride.

And it was headed for the hiding place of the object – most probably the study of Tezuka Kunikazu.

"Fuji…" Eiji's quivering voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him abruptly back to reality.

He'd not heard Ishida turn and run to get help. Eiji's eyes were wide in disbelief, yet still focused on the hideous scene. The twilight cast an odd glow on Fuji's hair, and a shiver ran down his spine.

Fuji took a step backwards and met Eiji's eyes.

He probably looked insane.

"Fuji, did you…" Eiji's voice was barely audible, "Did you… know?"

There was no way he could answer that question, no matter how badly Eiji's eyes pleaded him to. He turned on his heel and left the room, his heart racing.

If he had put the pieces together correctly, he knew where the demon was headed.

And if luck was on his side, it might not have done anything to Tezuka yet.

There was still time to save Tezuka.

With that, Fuji cast rationality aside and broke into a run.

* * *

_tbc_

_

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Thank you for reading, and please feel free to share your thoughts and impressions with me ^_^  
_


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **PoT isn't mine.

**Warnings: **Gore, blood and violence ahead. If you're sensitive, proceed with caution!

* * *

**Thank you** to everybody who reads and reviews! Reviews make me happy (and help to find spelling/grammar mistakes. Useless information, but thanks to people pointing it out, I eventually learned the difference between loose and lose. ^^;)

_lemon-and-chai_: Things always get worse before they get better (to quote Hollywood), and the worst is still to come, but it won't be Tezuka getting torn into pieces. As for how exactly Fuji is going to fight it, he has some sort of an idea, though Tezuka is not going to like it. *evil laughter*

_Chrysalis441_: Fuji's character is wonderfully intriguing, because he has many shades. On one hand, it's easy to write him as vulnerable, considering he is on the petite side. On the other hand, he has been shown as somebody who won't back down, and who knows how to help himself. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

_Scarlette Shizuru_: Thank you for reading and reviewing. I like to think of Eiji as somebody who is very attuned to his friends' feelings, so he knows when to stop being cheerful – that and I don't like writing out onomatopoesia like "nya". As for the other questions, I hope the following chapter will answer them ^_^

And also a big thank-you to _PWNsomeness_ and _Mesonoxian_!

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_Chapter 17_

"It's urgent," had been the words to doom Tezuka in the middle of a lesson on history.

Pronounced by lips that ought to have been blue and cold long ago, yet once more Tezuka found himself staring into the face of the deceased Mori. Her silver hair was artfully donned, her coat fashionable and her eyes sparkling with barely-concealed mirth. There was nothing remotely dead about her; and movements that should have been slowed by age and weather conditions flowed with ease.

Tezuka shuddered, his fingers tightening around his pencil. His facial expression remained stoic, but his heart started racing.

What had she come for? What was happening?

His mind urged him to run. But she was blocking the only exit par the windows, and there were twenty pairs of eyes fixed on him, all wondering what his relation to that sweet old lady was, and what had brought her here.

Not a single one of his classmates had any idea of what was going.

His teacher, still busy exchanging polite words with the demon, guessed even less.

Mori's eyes found his, and she smiled. White teeth glittered ominously; the air around him seemed to freeze.

He had to run. Whatever her intentions, nothing good could come of this. He had already hesitated too long. Abruptly he turned to the window, made to stand - even if this was the second floor, he'd take his chances - when the world shifted.

Tezuka lacked Fuji's experience to pinpoint what exactly was happening, but the bright fluorescent lights of the classroom dwindled, as if color had been drained from the world. The chairs, the teacher's clothes, the faces of his classmates, all had faded to shades of grey.

Nothing moved either, and he didn't dare to breathe.

Then he noted a movement in the corner of his eye. Bright red liquid begun trickling down from above; slowly, unhurriedly, but in horrific quantities. Two, three drops turned into rivulets, Tezuka's stomach twisted.

Slowly he tilted his head to gaze above, even though his entire mind was screaming at him not to.

A pair of polished black shoes...

He blinked and the scene switched, ending as abruptly as it had begun. Not even a second seemed to have passed, he was still in his seat; eyes locked with Mori's.

Every hair on his arm was standing. His heart pounded as if about to explode, and the way he was clutching his pencil had nothing to do with mere fear anymore. He was beyond terrified - and the demon smiled sweetly.

"Tezuka-kun," she called out, her voice even and full of concern, and was joined by the teacher.

"You can go Tezuka-kun. Take care of your relatives, I'll inform the office, so you don't have to worry about anything," his teacher nodded at him.

What if he stayed put? What if he refused to leave his seat? What if he shouted out the truth for the world to hear?

Mori's eyes grew smaller, as if reading his thoughts. Something indescribable tickled his senses, faintly, but icy and electric. Nothing more than an invisible feather brushing his skin, yet there was a hint of incredible power, of suffocating, blood-soaked darkness and ancient evil.

Only a wave of a hand would suffice to lay waste to the entire school.

And Tezuka understood.

He might be able to stall, but he could not escape.

And with every second he stalled, chances that the demon might strike directly grew. With a heavy sigh, he pushed back his chair, collected his textbooks and stood. This might be the very last time he saw his classroom, a small voice in the back of his mind told him.

Possibly the last time he laid eyes on his classmates.

A part of him was angry with them for not noticing anything out of the ordinary, for gazing at Mori without any suspicion in their eyes. For letting him walk to what might just be his death without a note of protest.

But he knew he wasn't being fair.

The only person in the entire school that would have known wasn't in his class.

His heart stuttered as he followed Mori obediently out if the door, his hands clenched to stop them from shaking. He felt Oishi's inquisitive gaze boring into his back and for a split second wondered if there was any way to pass a hidden message. Something to make at least one person notice things weren't right.

Though such behavior would be foolish. The consequences of said action alone bode ill, Oishi probably would check up on his own instead of informing the authorities - and even if the authorities got involved, what chance did they stand against a demon?

Better to let nobody notice. At least there'd be no further deaths. None on his conscience at least. And Mori's eyes were watching him much too closely for any form of secret communication to pass unnoticed.

For the first time in his life, Tezuka Kunimitsu found himself unable to do anything but follow.

* * *

He swallowed the moment the door behind him closed. His classmates turned back to their lesson, while an icy breeze caressed his cheeks. Tezuka barely even felt it.

Run, his mind whispered once again, and his eyes gazed longingly toward the far end of the corridor. Mori noticed, naturally, and chuckled.

"I suppose you're intelligent enough to understand that that would not be a good idea," almost carelessly she turned from him and proceeded into the other direction, "You wouldn't want any of your friends to get hurt, would you?"

Tezuka saw no need to even reply. He felt frozen stiff, his mind unable to cope with the notion of having gotten caught in such an inescapable situation. His body moved mechanically, merely going through the motions, while the demon seemed to be in a malevolently cheerful mood.

"I don't suppose there is a place where we could talk privately," she added with an air of distraction, "I feel it would benefit both of us to get this resolved as soon as possible. Who knows what further hold ups might result in, after all."

Tezuka remembered a world devoid of color, red liquid dripping from above. The vision had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and he had yet to figure out its meaning.

He squared his shoulders. Even if the question had appeared rhetoric, if a word from him could save a life, he'd do it.

"The student council office," he offered, wondering what madness had possessed him. Inviting outsiders into there was almost deemed a sacrilege, and what he was doing was on an entirely different level altogether.

"There will be nobody around, I presume?" she questioned, one eyebrow raised. Tezuka forced himself to hold her gaze.

"Oh, whatever. It sounds like a well-enough option, so lead the way."

Not for the first time Tezuka found himself wishing there was more space between his classroom and the student council office. On most occasions, the proximity merely meant he got dragged into meetings he barely had anything to do with, or was called on for any emergency jobs.

Today he simply wished for a little more time to think.

Figure out a solution. He was supposed to be good at that. Find a way to get himself out if this situation without endangering anybody else.

At least Fuji wasn't there, this time around.

And while it made Tezuka feel marginally better to know his friend wasn't in danger, he couldn't help the sinking feeling that assaulted his stomach once the door loomed closer. With Fuji he had had at least a friend at his side in this adversary situation.

A friend who understood far more of this obscure world of spirits and demons than Tezuka would have ever dreamed.

Without Fuji, he felt helpless.

Unable to do anything but what the demon demanded. Watch his hands unlock the door to the student council office, even though he knew he should not. Walk straight to his doom, without even daring to make an attempt to get out of it.

Maybe...

"What are you waiting for?" Mori asked, sensing Tezuka's hesitation, and he finally remembered to push the door open, revealing a dimly lit room behind.

With a deep breath, Tezuka entered the room, and Mori followed immediately. He hadn't even turned around, when he already heard the door shut. His feet automatically carried him over to the desk he usually occupied - would he ever sit here again?

Was this it?

Mori smiled darkly. "Allow me to thank you for your cooperation. If only your friend had been a little more helpful, this would have been much easier. But alas, no crying over spilt milk, as they say."

At the mention of his friend, Tezuka's head had shot up. Horror flooded his veins, froze his heart and he couldn't stop the breathless "What did you do?" from escaping his lips.

The demon merely raised one disinterested eyebrow. "Were you too scared to look earlier? But anyhow, I don't mean the one who also goes to this school. I meant the one you dumped the fake on."

Tezuka's brows furrowed. Her words made no sense, but at least Fuji was unharmed. That did not explain, what her cryptic statement concerning a fake meant. His eyes traces the snow-covered twigs of the tree outside, followed them until they became black silhouettes against a darkening, grey sky.

It wasn't logical...

Or was it? Tezuka felt a shudder run down his spine that had nothing to do with the dreary temperatures in the unheated room.

"Now, let's get this over with," Mori abruptly declared.

Tezuka instinctively flinched as the air began to tremble. Like it had happened back in the classroom, a film seeped over the scene, draining away the colors, until the world inside seemed as dead as the frozen landscape outside. Tension made his fingers tingle; he bit his tongue so he made no sound.

Silence settled heavily, Mori's eyes were fixed onto something his eyes couldn't yet make out. But forms started shaping, the air blurring and shifting. He squinted.

Something hit the ground.

The sound was small, barely even there, yet rang out all too clearly to Tezuka. A coppery smell registered with his senses and in the back of his mind the voice that usually reminded him of reason and logic started screaming.

Black dress shoes dangled in the upper part of his vision.

Blood began pooling on the floor underneath them. Tezuka's stomach twisted violently. He stumbled backwards, clutching blindly at the desk as he couldn't stop himself from glancing upwards.

Hung in a web of glittering, silver wires was Hasegawa. Along those razor sharp wires blood trickled, coloring them a brownish red. Hasegawa's face was devoid of color, his clothes torn and if not for the faint rise and fall of his chest Tezuka would have believed him dead.

He felt utterly sick.

Mori smiled darkly. "As I was saying, you could have saved us a lot of trouble. As it is, your friend here out up quite a fight... Not that it made a difference in the end."

She shrugged. Tezuka's fingers gripped the desk so tightly his knuckles turned white. The smell of blood was so thick he could barely breathe, while the demon remained entirely unfazed.

Tezuka could only watch in frozen horror as Mori stepped forward and snapped her fingers. The air around Hasegawa seemed to ripple – Tezuka shuddered – and then Hasegawa's eyelids fluttered. For a second disbelief flooded Tezuka's mind – how could the man still be alive?

Then he had to swallow down the bile rising in the back of his throat.

Hasegawa's face twisted in pain. His lips had begun turning purple, black shadows surrounded his eyes, and blood was dripping down from his lips. Yet his eyes were focused, clear – and terrified.

"Now that everybody is awake and we're all complete," Mori announced cheerfully, "We can settle this."

She approached Hasegawa, passing those wires as if they weren't there. Probably they didn't exist for her; Tezuka thought. This was already defying everything he had ever believed in – seeing laws of nature proved wrong wasn't nearly as shocking as it should have been.

Or maybe he was already far too afraid to register anything anymore.

"Now, Hasegawa-kun, let's continue our discussion. You haven't been that helpful, but I have a feeling with Tezuka-kun here, you'll actually give me a useful answer," she said.

Hasegawa glared at her. Tezuka bit his lower lip.

"You know what I want to know. Where the original to the fake you held is hidden." The demon leaned in closer, "And you know I could find out without you as well, so not giving me an answer is only prolonged suffering for you."

Hasegawa firmly refused to open his mouth. With a small sigh Mori took a step backwards. Threw a glance at Tezuka over her shoulder; one she made sure Hasegawa caught.

"Apparently you don't mind the pain," she told him, "So let's try another spiel. How about I do to Tezuka-kun what I did to you?"

"You wouldn't," Hasegawa replied. His voice was hoarse, but steady.

Mori raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? The boy is worthless without the stone."

Hasegawa lifted his head a little. A fresh trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. "Still, you wouldn't kill him."

A shrug was his answer. "No, probably not. But you know, people say there are things worse than death. And I don't really need him sane or anything."

Tezuka stopped breathing. Ice flooded his veins, and his mind went blank for a moment. White buzzing filled his ears – and there was no name for the horror he felt.

When his heart started beating again, Hasegawa was straining against the wires, mindless of the cuts decorating his arms and legs; of the blood running from his body, of the pain. His eyes were wide open and fierce.

"What do you need that stone for anyways? Aren't you already powerful enough? What do you hope to gain from it?"

Mori smiled darkly. "Really, I thought you'd figure that one out. How about you tell me where the stone is hidden and I give you the answer?"

She chuckled, "And you know, I'd hurry unless you want something irreversible to befall Tezuka-kun. I'm sure his esteemed family would be quite disappointed with you."

Tezuka clutched the desk harder. The wood felt solid under his fingers, like his last tie to a crumbling world. Behind him, the air crackled.

He didn't dare to turn around, but stoically kept his eyes fixed on the disaster in front of him.

Hasegawa's eyes widened. Fear flashed across his face and he bit his lips.

"How…" he stumbled over his words; suddenly there were emotions other than determination and disgust coloring his voice, "How can you do this? No demon I ever heard of is so… so…"

Mori snorted. "Fool," she said, sounding of all things honestly amused.

Hasegawa blinked, and Tezuka wasn't certain, but something appeared different. Something about Hasegawa's statement had struck a chord with the demon.

But there was no time for contemplations, even as realization dawned on Hasegawa's face. "You're no…"

"I'm afraid I have no time for useless conversations, sweetheart," Mori announced, unflappable as before, "Tell me where the stone is."

Something tickled Tezuka's shoulder. He held his breath.

Mori fixed her eyes on Hasegawa's.

"Tell me or Tezuka-kun loses his left arm. And from what I heard, it's quite dear to him."

Whatever Hasegawa saw lurking beside Tezuka made him pale dramatically. Tezuka swallowed. He wouldn't look – wouldn't give in to the fears preying on his mind. Panic wasn't becoming of him. If Hasegawa had to keep the secret – he wasn't going to plead for mercy.

Not when they had already paid so high a price.

But Hasegawa's eyes turned away. To the ground. Defeat colored his voice, when he whispered: "The stone is kept in the study of Tezuka Kunikazu."

His eyes found Tezuka's – and Tezuka felt a tumult dwell in his chest. He wanted to be angry, wanted to be disappointed that Hasegawa had chosen Tezuka's safety over keeping the secret. But Hasegawa's eyes were pleading for understanding, for forgiveness; and Tezuka could deny a man in pain his last lifeline as little, as he could deny his own relief.

He hadn't wanted to imagine how Mori would remove his left arm from his body.

Or the consequences.

He had stopped thinking about consequences the moment he had left his classroom. The moment he had realized that he quite probably wouldn't live to see the sunset.

"Why, thank you very much," Mori told him. "See, it wasn't that difficult. And Tezuka-kun remains unharmed. Easy, wasn't it?"

She turned away from Hasegawa with a self-satisfied chuckle.

"Why…?" Hasegawa gasped, "What are you doing this for? What is your aim?"

"And why do you suppose I would answer those questions?" Mori asked, casting a glance across her shoulder as she approached the desk Tezuka had taken refuge at, "You turned down the deal I offered, so I don't owe you any answers."

She shrugged. "I had to threaten Tezuka-kun here to get you to talk, so unless you have some form of leverage, I'm not interested."

Hasegawa struggled. Blood bubbled on his lips, trickling down his chin. Tezuka wanted to say something. Do something. But he remained frozen in place.

Carelessly she grabbed a water bottle, turned it over and emptied its contents on the floor.

"Anyhow, it was nice of you to finally cooperate," she announced, tossing the bottle away, much to Tezuka's bewilderment, "Though it took a while. But I'm glad you value Tezuka-kun so much."

She tilted her head and a dark smile crossed her lips. Something crackled in the air.

"After all," she whispered malevolently, "It's not as if the same applied in reverse. Tezuka-kun's family stuck you with a fake. Do you really believe they had no idea what would happen?"

Tezuka's heart stopped. Mori chuckled, paying no heed to Hasegawa or Tezuka.

"Oh well, Tezuka-kun, we need to get going." She nodded over to the puddle of water on the floor, mixing with blood.

"Hasegawa-kun… good riddance."

A wave of the hand was all it took.

Tezuka could only stare as the wires started moving – tightening, moving into opposing directions, cutting effortlessly into the flesh between them. There was no scream, only a wet, gargling sound, and Tezuka couldn't look at Hasegawa's face.

Yet the image of a body being cut into pieces burned itself into his retinas, even Mori whisked them away.

* * *

Fuji was almost out of the school grounds, his heart pounding louder than his footsteps. His mind filled with horrific images, overflowing with questions and blinded by what-ifs.

He had to get to Tezuka.

Then there were screeching tires and a decisive voice cutting through the haze obstructing his brain.

"Syusuke," his sister was glaring at him from behind the steering wheel of her red convertible, "What on earth are you doing?"

_tbc_

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Thank you for reading and please feel free to share your thoughts and impressions with me! ^_^  
_


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer**: PoT isn't mine. I'm just having fun with the characters.

**Warnings**: General creepiness. Not too bloody here.

**AN**: Err, I'm sorry about taking so long for this chapter. First I was traveling a lot and had my mind blown away by landscapes and history. Next thing I know I go home and find an earthquake destroyed a place I had called my temporary home until a few days prior, and after that my personal life took a sharp nosedive. It's not all okay now, but here's to channeling frustration into an creative outlet. :)

**Reviews**: Thank you for the feedback on the last chapter! Especially for the corrections (shall work them into the lj version first, and once this is complete here, I'll do the correction over here). As the review count hit 100+ sometime between Western and Chinese New Year (without me noticing. . Thank you guys!), I started to wonder if those notification mails are being eaten by some monster lurking in the www. So thank you, and I'll try to reply to new and old reviews once I work through my settings!

* * *

_Eighteen_

For a moment his mind went blank. Then Fuji pulled himself together, raced over to his sister's car and threw himself into the passenger seat. He barely felt the warm air closing in on him as the door shut, and Yumiko raised one eyebrow at his behaviour.

"Sis, I'll explain on the way. Just take me to Tezuka's. As fast as possible." He had to catch his breath then, but his sister set the car in motion without question. A weight lifted from Fuji's chest as the vehicle jerked forward – at least he'd be at Tezuka's place fast.

Though if he was going to be in time…

The blood hadn't dried yet, Fuji reminded himself, recalling the gruesome slaughter in the student council room. There might yet be a chance…

To find Tezuka alive? Fuji didn't want to think about the possibilities, but his mind insisted on bringing up one nightmarish image after the other. Fates worse than death, irreversible damage -

"You look like hell warmed over," Yumiko frowned at him from the corner of her eye, before she turned her attention back to the road. A glance to sideways told her that the road was free; and she pressed the gas pedal further down than usual.

Fuji sank back against the seat, closing his eyes for a second. He tried frantically to restore at least some sort of order to his mind; though right now his thoughts were in scattered. Flashes of memory mixed with nightmares, a part of his mind wanted to run away and hide in a corner until it all was over, but…

If he failed to act now, normality would never restore itself.

He'd wasted so many opportunities earlier, had allowed so many oversights… Why hadn't he voiced his suspicions? Why had he been content to believe what everybody had told them, when he had seen the gaping holes?

How could he have allowed things to come to this?

"You owe me an explanation, Syusuke," Yumiko reminded him. Her voice was flat – his actions had already told her something had happened.

Fuji pressed his lips together. He'd made far too many mistakes to lay all the blame with the other parties. But that realization wasn't helping.

Least of all Tezuka.

The image of the student council office splattered with blood crossed his mind.

"Hasegawa is dead," he told his sister, and his voice sounded frozen even to his own ears. He swallowed. "We just discovered his body in the student council office."

Yumiko's eyes widened.

Fuji tried to suppress all the feelings that came with the memories – the violent horror, shock and fear. There'd be a time – later, when everything was over – to deal with those emotions. Not now, not when he needed to stay calm and rational.

His sister kept her eyes on the road, her hands firm and stable. Instead of commenting, she nodded at Fuji to continue.

"It was that thing's work. I … And now Tezuka disappeared," Fuji kept his eyes on the landscape outside. Few cars were out on the snow-slick streets around this time, yet everything looked dead and lifeless. The clouds were low today; thick and filled with the promise of early nightfall.

He took a deep breath. "Somebody saw Tezuka leave with an old lady, though."

Yumiko needed less than a second to piece the puzzle together. She floored the gas, and the car jolted forward. One turn of the wheel and they were flying past the other cars, trees turning into blurs and road signs passing too fast to be legible.

"Do you know what is going on?" she questioned evenly; calm as if she wasn't driving at twice the speed limit. Fuji knew that tone – scarily similar to his own flat voice when he tried to cover up excitement or nervousness.

"Not really," he replied honestly. Too much had happened, and right now there were more important things than figuring out the truth. Yet concentrating on the puzzle the demon's actions presented was a better occupation for his mind than coming up with possibilities what might be happening to Tezuka right now.

"From its actions I infer this thing needs Tezuka for something," Fuji frowned lightly. "And if I understood the significance of Hasegawa's death correctly, the object of its interest is still at Tezuka's house."

"So we'll probably find both Tezuka and that thing there," Yumiko bit her lip, thoughtfully staring out at the muddy roads ahead, before passing a stop sign at full speed. "And we're going to run in there completely unprepared. I don't think that's a good idea."

She took the lull in their conversation to pull into a side street. Snow covered most of it, but for well-worn tire tracks, and Fuji realized they weren't far away from Tezuka's home anymore. A shudder ran down his spine.

"I might be wrong," Fuji said. But in truth he was more afraid of finding a scene like that in the student council room at Tezuka's home.

"We'll find out when we arrive," Yumiko replied, her lips pressed together in a firm line. Curves were sharper here, so she had to take out some speed.

Eventually she took a deep breath. "There is one more thing you ought to know, though."

Fuji blinked and tilted his head. His fingers unconsciously clenched in the fabric of his trousers.

"I spoke to Hasegawa on the phone shortly after he left Tezuka-kun's house. He agreed with me that the actions of that thing don't fit – for a demon, a ghost or any sort of common supernatural creature," she told her brother quietly, "As for its mark, all we know is of its ability to help shift locations."

A thoughtful nod was all she received from Fuji – his eyes were glued to the windshield, searching the neighbourhood for any sign of unusual activity.

Yumiko grimly continued "But what if that stone wasn't only good for shifting locations? What if it could help shifting states of being?"

Fuji's eyebrows knitted, and Yumiko smiled darkly. "You remember that humans can turn into ghosts, don't you? What about reversing that process? Or applying it other forms as well? How about a ghost becoming a demon? So what if that stone grants the power to shift into any form of being?"

A cold shudder ran down Fuji's spine.

With wide eyes he added: "And make every place and object, no matter how well protected, available to them."

* * *

Tires screeched as Yumiko's brought the car to a hard stop in front of the house's main gate. Fuji was out of his seat before Yumiko had even turned the engine off, heedlessly rushing through the half-opened wooden gate toward the entrance.

Snowflakes had begun drifting down from above, cold and wet on Yumiko's cheeks. She shivered, pulled her coat closer around herself and hurried after her brother. Part of her was wary of entering private grounds without prior announcement – yet another part knew they had no time.

It was hard to believe in a being that powerful as she'd never encountered it. Even more difficult to believe something was afoul in the quiet noon atmosphere surrounding them. The white blanket covering everything rested undisturbed, only bits of evergreen pine trees visible, trees and bushes black against their surroundings.

Barely any noise from the bustling city beyond this residential neighbourhood was audible; the air tranquil and clear. It felt surreal that all should look so normal, while something horrible was going on.

She shivered.

Snow crunched under the soles of her shoes, and the touch of something wet and icy against her ankles distantly reminded her that she hadn't expected to walk outside today. She saw her brother reach the door, lifting a pale hand – where had his gloves disappeared to? – to knock against the dark wood.

* * *

The door was open.

Fuji's heart stopped. Blind with fear he stumbled inside; stopping only when he realized nothing in the quaint entrance room looked disturbed. The large china vase with its artfully arranged flowers glinted quietly in the corner, the little light from outside reflecting on its polished surface. Two pairs of shoes sat neatly next to the genkan, and the coat rack was empty bare for one jacket.

"Hello?" Fuji called out breathlessly, blinking to adjust his eyes.

Heavy silence was his only reply. The air around him was warm, almost stuffy compared to the freezing breeze outside. The snowflakes that had gotten caught in his hair were melting, and he heard his sister's heels clicking along the pathway behind him, Fuji forced his racing heart to calm down –

"Hello? Tezuka?" He shouted once again, but there was no response.

In sheer desperation he forced himself to concentrate. Tried to pick up on something like remains of strong spiritual power, a disturbance in the air, anything. He wanted to find something, at least some little thing to give hope so badly but…

Logically he knew that sensing power of a spirit already gone was beyond his capacities.

A faint tingle down his back was all he got, and it felt like a black hole opening up inside of him, gravity pulling him towards it, trying to make him collapse in a mindless heap. Behind him Yumiko entered through the sliding door, bringing with her a gust of icy air.

Fuji tried to think, to figure out a solution, even though his mind was spinning with scattered ideas. What was happening to Tezuka, had he gotten it right this time, what was this demon after, how much had Hasegawa known, what if they were still missing a clue, and how, how, how could this ever end well?

Even if he managed to anticipate the monster's actions this time – what could he do? What condition would Tezuka be in? Was there any way, any trick that would make it possible for him to hold his own against the spirit, just for a moment?

Meanwhile Yumiko studied the objects in the entrance room thoughtfully. A tingle had run down her spine when she had stepped on the grounds, another the moment she stepped through the door.

Those wards however, did not account for the undercurrent tension she sensed.

"Something was here," she stated quietly.

Fuji pressed his lips together – his guess had been right. Without a glance toward his sister he turned and hurried down the hallway, heading for Kunikazu's study.

He had barely taken three steps down the corridor, when he found several things out of place. The sliding door to the study was open wide, papers littered the floor in front of it and even from several metres away Fuji could feel an icy breeze drifting in from there. In the dim light he almost missed the dark lump opposite the open door –

Then he forgot to breathe.

Slumped against the wall was Tezuka Kunikazu. The man's face was white and his eyes closed. No outer injury was visible, but he wasn't moving.

The ground seemed to vanish from underneath Fuji's feet. Unbidden the images of Hasegawa's torn body rose again, Dizziness rose and his vision blurred –

This couldn't be happening; this couldn't be real; why would that thing kill everyone in sight so abruptly; why Tezuka's grandfather; why had he even been there; how had it happened; what was happening to Tezuka – his mind was spinning, and only his sister's hand on his shoulder brought it to a stop.

Silently Yumiko stepped past him and kneeled down. Before she even touched the man, she turned to her brother with a shadow of a smile on her lips.

"He's only unconscious," she announced, and Fuji felt like fainting from relief.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and panic no longer clouded his vision, he eventually realized that there were no outer injuries on Tezuka Kunikazu. The man's chest rose and fell steadily, and his clothes were as unruffled as ever.

"Tezuka-san," his sister called out, carefully checking for broken bones or hidden injuries. The man did not stir. It would have been careless under other circumstances, but Fuji couldn't help stepping away, now that he knew his friend's grandfather was alive.

And the study looked as if a hurricane had blown through it.

Boxes had been tossed onto the ground, books torn from the shelves and several cupboards stood wide open. Torn pages covered the ground, and snowflakes had started drifting in from outside. A splintered teacup, a smashed wooden case and fluttering pieces of paper created a chilling picture. Fuji stared at the mosaic, and had to remind himself to breathe.

Tezuka wasn't in there, neither was the demon.

But the door leading to the backyard had been opened.

Fuji shuddered as another gust of wind passed him, carrying the smell of snow and numbing his already icy fingers further. Only a faint throbbing reminded him of his frozen toes. Even as adrenaline rushed through his body and his heart pounded as if it was about to burst from panic, his limbs remained cold.

His guess had been correct.

But too late.

The demon wasn't there anymore. And neither was Tezuka.

He glanced sideways; watching his sister carefully make sure Tezuka's grandfather was physically unharmed. This development at least was a pure stroke of luck – Fuji had feared the worst, after what had happened to Hasegawa.

The images his mind had come up with …

Fuji took a deep breath. If the demon hadn't killed Tezuka's grandfather and no blood could be found in the study – his heart shuddered – there was a good chance Tezuka was still alive.

And utterly alone with that creature.

"Syusuke, is there a blanket around here somewhere?" Yumiko's question cut through the haze in his mind. It was freezing in the corridor, and the air grew colder with each passing minute. Fuji straightened up, glanced around – he remembered having seen some sort of a blanket in the study.

Wordlessly he entered the room, taking care not to step onto anything. The blanket sat on a lower shelf – one row above it, books had been torn from their places, tossed onto the ground and ripped into pieces.

He swallowed.

What now, he wondered, where could they have disappeared to? Something dark blossomed deep in his chest – threatening to swallow him should he fail now. Fuji pressed his lips together; there had to be some way.

Wordlessly he passed the blanket to Yumiko, who also cast a calculating look into the direction of the garden. They ought to close the door, Fuji thought; the freezing air couldn't be doing any good to Tezuka's grandfather.

And the snowflakes drifting inside were probably destroying invaluable documents already.

Fuji's feet carried him to the door, and he gazed at the well-kept backyard. Winter had turned the normally colourful garden into a black and white picture. The snow in front of the door was disturbed – footprints, almost buried under the layer of fresh snow.

He blinked.

Those footprints lead away from the door.

And toward the pond.

_Step onto the ice_, he recalled Mori saying to Tezuka. It seemed like an eternity ago that he had been kneeling on the ice of the pond in the park near their school, trying frantically to convince his friend not to accept the deal the demon had offered.

If they'd known back then…

Fuji shook his head, as grim determination lit a spark in his eyes.

He might not know where the demon had dragged Tezuka. But he knew how to follow them.

* * *

"Sis," her brother called, a very odd tone to his voice.

Yumiko pressed her lips together and hurried outside – after Tezuka Kunikazu had been taken care of, she had found her brother had disappeared outside. She suppressed a shudder when freezing air hit her face. A myriad of snowflakes danced in the air around her, obscuring her vision and she had to blink before she finally located Fuji.

"What…?" her voice came out surprised.

Fuji stood on the edge of a small pond, close to a weeping willow that had been frozen stiff. Even underneath the dark grey sky those icy branches sparkled. The pond's water was frozen, but near the edge the ice was thin, nearly translucent.

If he guessed correctly…

"It should be possible to follow them, shouldn't it?" Fuji asked, not bothering to explain himself to his sister. Yumiko could guess, and that alone made her pale.

"Even if we don't have enough power for an independent transfer, merely following them should work, no?" Fuji continued, his eyes studying the dark ice thoughtfully.

Yumiko felt her blood run cold. "What are you talking about?"

She brushed a couple of snowflakes from her face, but more kept falling and obscuring her vision. The pine trees seemed black, and she could barely make out her brother's expression from where she stood.

"I need to follow them," Fuji said in a voice that booked no argument, "That thing took Tezuka to some unknown place – and follow them there is all I can do."

Yumiko's eyes widened. She pressed her lips together and took a decisive step forward. "Even if that was possible, that's insane."

"Maybe", a pale smile crossed Fuji's face, "But there is no other way. Help me here, please."

A gust of wind passed them, and the snow began falling harder, but neither noticed. The willow's frozen branches creaked, unable to sway in the breeze.

Yumiko energetically shook her head. "Syusuke, do you even understand what you're doing there? That thing is going to kill you the moment you show up wherever it is."

"But it is feasible," Fuji replied. Then he turned a beseeching look onto his sister. "Please, I know this appears insane, and I'm well aware of the risks – but I can't just abandon Tezuka. I'd do it alone if I could, but you know I can't."

Something in her chest felt like breaking. "No, no, no. Please don't ask this of me. Don't."

"Please. This …," Fuji bit his lip, "I don't think I could live with myself if I let Tezuka die."

She needed to stop this idiocy. Stop it before she gave in. "Don't ask me to send you to your death, Syusuke."

Her voice was shaking.

Fuji's voice was as soft as the fresh snow settling over the ground, and as cutting as the ice. A thin layer of white dust had started forming on his head.

"Please understand," Fuji said, "If Tezuka dies, it's because I failed to figure things out. I mean, I had an idea things weren't as resolved as they seemed, but I ignored it. And now it's Tezuka who is going to pay for my mistake."

Yumiko wanted to stomp her feet. "So you figure it would be better if both of you die? Syusuke, I know how you feel, but try to understand me. Knowing what I do, I can't do this."

"I know," Fuji whispered, and the wood underneath his feet creaked ominously, "But I don't think I could live with myself if I don't at least try to save him. I know the chances are against me, but if I don't even try…"

"You can't ask this of me!" She couldn't help herself; her voice jumped an octave, though her brother barely seemed to notice.

"Try to see it from my perspective: I suspected they were using a decoy, yet I never mentioned it. Hasegawa is already dead. I don't want Tezuka to die as well and…" Fuji's voice faded.

He didn't want Tezuka to be alone. No matter what happened, he didn't want his friend to face that demon entirely on his own, without anybody to provide him with support. This entire mess was not even Tezuka's concern, and it seemed beyond unfair should he come to harm due to it.

Most of all, Fuji didn't want Tezuka to think he had abandoned him.

Even if it was just a short moment – he wanted Tezuka to know he wasn't alone out there. That Fuji would never give up on him.

That he cared.

Though if he told Yumiko, she'd never let him go. He was asking her to send him to his death – Fuji dreaded to think how small his chances to survive were, how unlikely it was for him to see his sister ever again. He dared not to think on it.

"I'm sorry," he told Yumiko with a note of finality, "If I don't do this, I'll be as good as dead."

Yumiko's eyes widened as Fuji took a step backwards. Snow crunched under the soles of his shoes. A snowflake tickled his nose; a sensation oddly removed from the gravity of the situation. Another half-step back would carry him over the edge of the small wooden baulk.

He could see his sisters horrified expression through the falling snowflakes; already parts of her red curled were dotted with white crystals.

"Syusuke…" she uttered, realizing abruptly what he was about to do.

Fuji smiled. And let himself fall backwards.

_tbc_

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Please feel free to share your thoughts and impressions with me ^_~  
_


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** PoT is not mine. This is written merely for private amusement.

**AN: **Thank you very much everybody for the lovely reviews! Those helped me to bridge those last couple of month. I do apologize for taking so long to post the next chapter, but life happened and kept me busier than anticipated. That said, I hope the next update will happen sooner (as it stands, the script for this story is complete at this point, but revisions take their sweet time), though I'm afraid I can't guranatee anything.

As for reviews - for the time being I'm switching to using the direct reply method for signed reviews (I hope it worked. System got a hiccup inbetween...) - as for unsigned reviews - if you have a specific question, I'll try to address it here, otherwise I'm just saying **thank you!**

Thank you once again for your patience & I hope the following chapter will prove to have been worth the wait.

* * *

_Nineteen_

Sunlight tickled Tezuka's skin. A warm breeze caressed his cheeks, and the blissful silence urged him to keep his eyes closed. Leaves rustled in the distance, and he rested on something hard, yet comfortable, the air was clean and tranquil, and for the first time since forever his muscles began to relax.

Though…

His brows furrowed.

The air wasn't merely warm, it was almost stuffy. An enveloping heat, only too welcome after all the cold he had just –

There was sweat on his brow. He was dressed far too thick for this weather. And when had it gotten so warm, anyhow? Hadn't he just a moment ago been…

Heels clicked across a tile floor not too far away. Leaves rustled gently.

How had he gotten here? What had happened? When had …

The fog in his mind cleared abruptly.

Tezuka's eyes widened; he sat up. This wasn't right, his brain was screaming, this was dangerous, this was utterly, totally wrong. Nothing of this ought to be happening; nothing of this could be real.

He had to be dreaming, hallucinating –

Memories assaulted him. Hasegawa's strangled gasps, the sounds of a body torn apart, blood dripping to the ground, the uncomfortable dizziness as reality shifted, Mori's ominous smile – her innocent act in front of his teacher and classmates, the gesture that had started this downwards spiral into insanity.

Had somebody in school noted anything amiss by now?

Would they – Tezuka swallowed. Even if they had, it probably wouldn't matter anymore.

Horror had frozen him stiff when Mori had done away with Hasegawa – whatever he felt then, he couldn't remember. The scenes were burnt onto the back of his eyelids, but he'd barely sensed the cold, even though his winter coat had been unbuttoned when he had suddenly found himself back at his own house.

Too much had happened in too little time, and at some point his mind had stopped coping.

At first he hadn't wanted to believe his eyes when he had found himself standing in his own backyard, with Mori smiling at nothing in particular. After everything her beige coat had still been spotless, and Tezuka's stomach had twisted.

She'd been frighteningly cheerful through everything.

His grandfather…

A shudder ran down Tezuka's spine, even though sweat began to form on his forehead. He didn't want the memories to rise, not when there was nothing he could do. Not when he couldn't undo what had occurred, not when he was cursed to watch helplessly as the scene replayed itself in his mind over and over again.

Tezuka Kunikazu had been in his study; naturally that he had noted their arrival. His surprise – and protest – and been short; a flick of Mori's wrist had tossed him clear out of the room and into the corridor, where he'd slumped. And remained motionless on the floor, while Mori had unperturbedly gone through several boxed until she'd found the right one.

All Tezuka had been able to do was watch in silent terror.

"Are you finally waking up?" The question smoothly penetrated the thick haze surrounding Tezuka's consciousness.

He pushed himself up abruptly, noting the warm tiles underneath his body for the first time, and looked around almost panicky. The demon was with him – who knows what she'd done while he'd been out of it. Who knew what …

The woman who was calmly smiling down at him wasn't Mori.

* * *

Instinctively Yumiko reached out – in vain. She was too far from her brother to stop him from falling, to pull him back to safer ground. As if time had slowed, she could only watch in horror as he fell toward the frozen surface, as snowflakes drifted down around them.

She couldn't let him fall into the water. Every instinct screamed at her not to allow it –

The air shivered with unseen energy, bright and pulsing, urging her to give her own as well. To grant her brother's wish, the one time he dared to use those powers neither of them liked to acknowledge. To send him after Tezuka, to –

Her hands touched the ground before she could form a rational thought.

And with every last bit of power available to her, Yumiko tried to grant said wish.

* * *

It wasn't Mori, but yet it was still the same being. Deep down, Tezuka corrected himself – this creature had never been Mori; had never been the nice old lady with the black cat he had known as a child.

This was the true form of the demon that had been terrorizing them.

The ageless face suited her better, Tezuka had to acknowledge, than the features of the elderly Mori. As some movements of the demon had already betrayed, its true form appeared young. Dark eyes observed Tezuka's reaction with thinly veiled amusement, and her voice was deep and clear.

"You surely took quite a while to wake. And while we aren't exactly in a hurry right now, I'd like to get this done and over with," she turned her gaze away from him to a point hidden behind a tall bush of blossoming rhododendrons.

A soft breeze played with her long, artfully arranged dark hair, and a long scarf fluttered in the air. Mori's beige coat had been replaced by a long gown, black with red, and rich golden ornaments that glistened under the sun. Instead of appearing as a small elderly lady, she now stood a little taller than Tezuka.

Her looks were utterly different – faintly Arabic, or African, though Tezuka wasn't certain if earthly terms could be applied to such a creature – but the uncaring expression in her eyes had remained the same.

He carefully climbed to his feet, studying his unfamiliar surroundings. The tiles were immaculate, yet their pattern was old and foreign. The building that offered cool shade was unfamiliar as well, and taken the style of the pool his gaze fell upon, he would have almost called the scene oriental.

It matched what he had seen in travel brochures and TV documentaries, but the entire place felt surreal. The air was too quite, the lush vegetation with its colourful flowers too rich, and the sun up in the clear blue sky too sharp a contrast to the place he had left. It was hot; an unfamiliar kind of dry heat, Tezuka realized the longer he stood there.

"How about you get rid of that coat and follow me, Tezuka-kun?" the demon suggested with a shrug. "If you're interested, I guess I could answer some questions."

Reluctantly Tezuka shrugged his coat off. He felt exposed without its weight on his shoulders, yet also less obstructed in his movements. A breeze cooled the sweat that had started forming on his forehead, and he pressed his lips firmly together.

His fingers were still shaking with barely suppressed tension. The quiet around him shouldn't lull him into a sense of security. This new form the demon had taken bode ill, yet the first question that fell from Tezuka's lips betrayed only his confusion. "Where are we?"

"Where?" She turned around, "The exact description of this place would be 'a dimensional pocket I created from a memory', but I doubt that would make any sense to you."

Tezuka swallowed. Stared at the intense colours of trees, flowers and the sky.

"This isn't real?" he asked.

She laughed. "Oh, don't worry, this is real enough. You'll die, if I kill you."

* * *

Fuji found himself falling.

A split second he was looking up at a clear blue sky overhead, filling his entire vision, confounding his depth perception; then with a thunderous splash his back hit water. The liquid was cool as it surged up around him, bubbles dancing around him as snowflakes had done a moment ago.

And overhead the sky was blue, and deep and endless and Fuji couldn't quite tell if he was sinking, until his eyes caught sight of smooth white tiles in a far corner.

So he hadn't landed himself in some bizarre hallucination in his desperate endeavour to save Tezuka. Yumiko must have helped – his own power would never have sufficed. But had he caught up to Tezuka and that demon?

With a few powerful strokes Fuji propelled himself to the water's surface, blinking frantically to survey the scene even as he gasped for air. Water kept running into his eyes, blurring his vision, but the air against his face was warm and as unfamiliar as the scenery revealing itself to his eyes.

Ceramic tiles surrounded what was obviously a pool, patterned in blue and white, bordered by lush, well-kept greenery. Old olive trees provided shade for a myriad of flowers of all sizes and colours. Dozens of them Fuji had never seen before, yet beyond that green border he saw nothing but sky.

Frustrated he twisted his head around, his mind already starting to wonder what had gone wrong; if he had ended somewhere entirely different from Tezuka. His heart missed a beat, when there was no trace of Tezuka or the demon to the other side of the pool.

Greenery there was overshadowed by an elegant sand-toned building, half of it barely more than a roof on several delicate columns to provide shade. The columns were richly decorated, ending in rounded rooftops, and the far wall held openings covered by intricate iron works. Light filtered through the gaps, casting ornamental shadows on the tiled ground.

There was an abandoned piece of cloth on the ground, half-hidden in the shade, that did not fit with the rest of the picture. Fuji pulled himself out of the pool, his arm muscles aching in protest. His coat had soaked itself full with water, doubling his weight, and what had seemed like a comfortably warm breeze before, turned out to be a hot wind once Fuji was out of the water.

The undiminished sunlight was dizzying.

He shrugged out of his coat and school jacket, leaving them near the pool's edge, before carefully pushing himself to his feet. Standing upright, he could see that the pool was located on the top of a small hill – in the distance he could spy a mountain range, sand-coloured and without even a hint of green. Only a faint layer of snow covered the highest mountain tops, though Fuji wasn't sure if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

The air around him was silent, but for a few twittering birds. No human voices, nothing that might have given him a clue to Tezuka's fate. Fuji pressed his lips together and stumbled in the direction of shade – that bundle of clothes; there might be a clue.

As he drew closer he could discern the landscape behind those window-like wall-openings. A valley dotted with houses, either white or in shades of light brown, palm trees and bushes springing up intermittently. But most of the ground consisted of earth or sand, and with the sun burning mercilessly high overhead, Fuji felt as if he stood at the border of a desert.

His heart faltered as he approached that bundle of clothes. Even without touching the fabric, he could tell it was Tezuka's thick winter coat. To find it here, abandoned…

What did it mean?

Was he too late, already? Or was there still hope? What fate had befallen his friend? The uncertainty was suffocating, and Fuji had to remind himself to breathe. If Tezuka and the demon remained in this place – whatever it was, Fuji tried not to think about this place's true configurations – where could they be?

There was no trace of a living being, other than those few birds, and those colourful flowers and immense trees. A few leaves rustled in the wind, but none fell to the ground. The tiles remained immaculately clear of dirt or even fallen petals.

But there was a tiled pathway leading away from the house, through the greenery and disappearing around a corner. He couldn't see where it lead, but as Fuji turned he realized, that this was probably the only exist leading away from this place.

If the demon and Tezuka had remained, they probably had taken that way.

Fuji's heart sped up.

* * *

The demon had led Tezuka down several flights of stairs, past numerous blooming bushes, over small, beautiful squares so white he could barely look at them in the sunlight, until he had lost every sense of direction.

He still hadn't been able to grasp what was happening.

Everything that had occurred since she had shown up at school struck him as unrealistic, impossible. He could scarcely even believe he was here right now and not back at home, dreaming. Even fear had lost its suffocating grasp – after what had happened to Hasegawa, things had stopped feeling real.

Maybe he was walking to his doom. Maybe he ought to turn and run. But for the moment, a soul-deep confusion filled his entire mind to the degree no space for other sentiments was left.

"What is going to happen?" he heard himself ask, before he had paid any mind to his words.

His companion turned around. "You were unusually silent back there," she commented, "Thinking about making a break for it? Anyhow, as to what is going to happen – we're going to a special chamber, perform a quaint little ceremony with this nice stone, and once everything works out, we'll go home."

Tezuka blinked. "You mean…"

"You're not going to die?" She chuckled, "Actually, I don't know. That ritual doesn't need me to kill you, but then again, I'm not sure what will happen once the process is complete. Maybe you'll end up a ghost or something like that."

A shudder ran down Tezuka's spine.

* * *

With hurried steps Fuji followed the path, paying no mind to his water-logged clothes. His hair had already begun to dry underneath the sun, and whatever water dripped from his clothes to the floor vanished within minutes.

The path of blindingly white tiles lead around several corners, bathed in the cool shade of trees and bushes; small flights of stairs every now and then guiding Fuji downward. He barely heard the chirping crickets over the pounding of the blood in his ears; and he held his breath before each corner he turned.

There were no other human beings around, but Fuji wasn't surprised.

The entire landscape seemed to have been elaborately shaped by men – this time the demon hadn't lead Tezuka merely to another location. He faintly remembered reading about some creatures having the ability to drag humans to other dimensions, subspaces – places outside of human normality – but he'd never paid it much mind.

Such ability had sounded far too rare to ever be confronted with.

But seeing it right now – it looked far more realistic than Fuji had expected it too, yet from the way everything felt, it was utterly different from reality. The mix of unreal and real sensations made Fuji's head spin –

Yet as long as he failed to find Tezuka, all those contemplations held absolutely no meaning.

He rounded another corner and spied a building through the tall hedges; marble walls with exotic ornaments; a rounded roof with golden decorations. In front of it stretched a small square of intricately patterned tiles – beautiful to behold, but Fuji paid it no mind.

The demon and Tezuka would be inside that building. He couldn't tell how he knew, yet every fibre of his being did. A closed door of blue-painted wood loomed in front of him.

He never slowed his steps.

Fuji threw the door open and held his breath.

* * *

Tezuka and the demon whirled around, disbelief painted on both of their faces. There were no words to describe the flash of happiness that raced through Fuji's mind as he caught sight of his friend – unharmed, standing and looking as stoic as ever before.

Only a widening of brown eyes behind elegant glasses betrayed Tezuka's surprise, while the demon's face darkened considerably. Fuji blinked, when he noticed the new appearance – he had long guessed the demon's true form wasn't Mori, but seeing it appear in the body of an unfamiliar young woman made him halt.

"Looks like uninvited company," she muttered. Fuji's blood ran cold when a callous smile crossed her face.

"It doesn't matter, though," she said, "You won't be much of a bother."

A wave of the hand catapulted Fuji against the far wall before he could blink, hard enough to knock all air from his lungs. For a moment he saw stars, heard Tezuka shout something from very, very far away, and only when the demon started laughing his vision cleared.

"Oh no, I don't think I can allow that, Tezuka-kun. You see, I need you here," she explained, "And really, it's your friend's own fault. He shouldn't have followed us."

Tezuka glared at her, enraged to a point Fuji had never before witnessed. His vision kept blurring though, and he wanted to say something, but an invisible force pressed him hard against the wall, keeping him upright and slowly obstructing his chest.

Her hand remained outstretched.

Her dimension; her rules. Fuji couldn't even claim to be surprised at this turn of events – he'd never paid much mind to his possibilities in his desperate desire to ensure Tezuka's safety. If she killed him…

There had to be something he could do.

Something to make sure his desperate deed had not been in vain. Not a foolish endeavour that would result in both their deaths and the demon's victory. If at least Tezuka was to return unharmed…

Grim determination filled Fuji's mind.

He wouldn't be able to escape from the chokehold she had on him, not by his own strength.

The demon's eyes were dark, calculating – the only reason he was still alive was because she was wondering if he could still be of use.

Unbidden, he recalled a memory from what seemed another lifetime; himself kneeling on a frozen surface and her coercing Tezuka to step on the ice as well. His life might once again become a bargaining chip against his intentions – to make Tezuka do the demon's bidding no matter what might come of it.

This time he wouldn't let her proceed as she pleased.

There might not be much he could do – this was her dimension, the rules could be bent to her will, and his own capacities in wielding any kind of supernatural powers far paled in comparison to hers – and chances on making things end all right had faded to nothingness at this stage. But as of now her plans hadn't come into fruition yet. Tezuka could still be saved.

In a distant corner of his mind, he was surprised at himself; wasn't this the kind of situation were humans fell back onto ruthless egoism? Yet he couldn't really bring himself to care about what would become of him, didn't even care he might not be able to see his friends again.

His mind was rushing through the possibilities – how to thwart her plans, how to save Tezuka.

And there was a way.

Not failsafe, not without risks – not a measure he'd even have considered under anything resembling normal circumstances. Most certainly not one Tezuka would agree with. Though they'd already gone along with the demon's demands once, and it had led them here – Fuji would not allow the same mistake to occur again.

Even if it meant making sure his own life couldn't be used for a bargain.

"What do you think you're doing?" The demon asked, obviously having noted the shift in the air.

The invisible tendrils pinning him to the wall tightened and Fuji released an involuntary gasp. His chest ached – a little more and his ribs would break.

"Stop it," Tezuka hissed, abruptly taking a step forward, "Stop it, you're killing him."

"That's the point," was her reply.

"But…" Tezuka started and was immediately interrupted with a careless shrug. Fuji forced himself to turn out the ensuing conversation – he was already on borrowed time, and if he wanted to do something, he needed to hurry.

His lips formed silent words; words his sister had taught him a long time ago.

Words for a desperate situation.

To allow a last change to happen, even when ones powers were all used up.

"I said I didn't need to kill you – but that doesn't strictly apply to your friend over here," she continued, watching Tezuka from the corner of her eye, "His death holds no merit for me, but he brought it upon himself once he set foot in this dimension."

Tezuka paled. His heart fluttered nervously as he forced the next words from his lips – he didn't dare to let her stop talking, as that seemed to be the only thing stopping her from killing Fuji right there and then.

"How about my compliance?" Tezuka offered with baited breath, "How about I promise to do your bidding – if you let Fuji live?"

She tilted her head. "I remember, we already made such a deal a while ago. However, circumstances are different, this time," she shrugged. "After this I have no further need for you. And how do you suppose you can go against me in this place, anyway?"

"Though once he finds the exit, that'll change drastically, won't it?" Fuji interrupted. His voice was hoarse, choked, but his eyes glittered determinedly. At the creature's glare, he continued unperturbedly: "It's simple. He only needs to jump back into that pool on the hill in order to return – and then you won't have the power to make him agree to your demands."

Suppressing his anxiety, Tezuka joined in. "I promise not to run if you let go of Fuji."

He could only hope he was doing the right thing. In truth, he had no idea what Fuji was doing here, what his friend was playing at – if he actually had any sort of plan. Tezuka frantically wished to be able to read the other's mind; yet Fuji's face was as unrevealing as ever.

"How about I make sure you can't run?" she replied, dryly.

With pronounced movements, she turned her hand away from Fuji, letting the forces pinning him to the wall ease off. He slumped to the ground, gasping for breath, while the demon waved in the direction of the door. Before Tezuka's astonished eyes, the wooden door turned into a solid wall, covered by ornamental tiles – not a trace of the prior open space visible.

Instead of pondering, Tezuka hurried over to Fuji, sinking to his knees next to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, carefully observing his friend's pale face and soaked clothes, "Are you…?"

"I'm fine," Fuji half-whispered in reply, "How about you? Did she do anything to you?"

For a split second Hasegawa's mutilated body flashed in front of Fuji's eyes. Tezuka had to have witnessed that happen; how on earth had he kept his countenance? Though a close study revealed white skin and wider-than-usual eyes.

Fuji instinctively reached out, resting his hand over Tezuka's in a silent, reassuring gesture. He'd get his friend out of here. No further harm would be done to Tezuka from here on.

A shudder ran down Tezuka's spine as something more than electricity passed between their hands. He had already opened his mouth to ask – Fuji was doing something, and he didn't understand it in the least – when footsteps announced the creature's approach.

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked, coldly staring down at them, "Which exit are you going to make your escape from?"

Fuji swallowed.

The room had effectively been sealed shut. Not entrance of exit remained; only those star-shaped skylights overhead let sunlight enter the chamber. For the first time, Tezuka noted candles hidden in corners, providing further light in the room. Twilight now cast flickering shadows on the ground; the air still and hot.

Fuji's grip on Tezuka's hand tightened as the demon stepped closer.

"You need to get away," he told him in a whisper, "Once she performed that ritual, you need to run."

Tezuka blinked, unable to utter a word. His mind was in chaos – a part taken aback at Fuji's instructions, at the certainty within them. Another part frozen in horror at the implication; Fuji wasn't including himself in that plan.

Fuji took his silence for attention. "You need to return to that pool on top of the hill. Don't pay any mind to what is happening around you – this dimension won't affect our world. All you need to do is think of your home when you jump into that pool."

She was almost upon them. Metal glinted in the flickering light.

"Promise me you will do that, Tezuka."

In face of Fuji's soft, insistent words, Tezuka could only nod.

A smile crossed Fuji's face, relieved beyond anything Tezuka had seen before. Dread blossomed in his chest, but before he could form a clear thought, the demon had raised a hand –

And brought down a coldly glittering blade.

Warm liquid splashed onto Tezuka's hands. A stray drop hit his cheek, but he never even felt it. His eyes were fixed on the tip of metal emerging from Fuji's chest – disbelief numbed his entire body to the point he couldn't breathe.

With hardly any gaze of concern the demon glanced down on them, closely observing Fuji's reaction.

Tezuka feverishly prayed for a miracle. He'd never believed in any kind of deity, but if faith could save Fuji's life, then –

Fuji's eyes had widened a little. No sound fell from his lips, but from the position of the blade's edge, Tezuka could already tell.

A faint smile crossed the demon's face. With barely a shrug she let the blade dissolve into thin air, as silently as she had summoned it into existence.

Madness, a faint voice in the back of Tezuka's head whispered, this was madness. This couldn't be happening.

Blood started flowing from the wound in Fuji's chest. Tezuka could hear his friend attempt to breathe. He couldn't even begin to imagine how that wound had to hurt.

The fingers grasping his hand loosened. Fuji weakly moved a hand to clutch at his chest, but couldn't lift his arm high enough. His eyes managed to focus on Tezuka's shell-shocked face.

Something lit up his eyes warmer than Tezuka had ever seen before, and he attempted to smile one last time at his friend. His expression was heart-wrenchingly gentle, and maybe for the first time no mask hid those emotions.

Then those lashes fluttered shut, and Fuji's body slumped into Tezuka's arms.

Tezuka did not have to search for a pulse.

He knew there would be none.

_tbc_

* * *

_If you find errors, please point them out to me. And I'll also be very grateful for every other kind of comment of criticism! ^_^  
_


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer**: Not mine. And that's for the better. :)

**Warnings: **Uhm, character death & violence. For now.

**Other ramblings from the author: **Thank you very, very much for reading and reviewing. Even if updates take long and replies to reviews even longer right now, I try my best to sit down and do my "homework" so to say. And I'd be a terrible liar if I was to claim writing and receiving responses wasn't a wonderful thing. So thank you everybody for reading on!

And as I received many wonderful reviews for the last chapter, yet took so long to update - here's two chapters instead of only one. :)

* * *

Twenty

The body in his arms was warm, light and very, very still. Tezuka's fingers clutched those small shoulders in abject horror, Fuji's head rested against his chest. He could feel blood pooling on the floor beneath him, soaking into the fabric of his trousers and colouring his formerly white shirt a bright red.

An unreadable expression played on the demon's face as she watched Tezuka hold his friend's body; his eyes wide with disbelief. Comprehension had not yet set in; and Tezuka's mind had frozen.

It had happened too fast.

His fingers were grasping Fuji's shoulders so tightly, it had to be painful. Yet no protest came from Fuji's lips, no small noise to indicate the discomfort –

Never again.

He wasn't going to hear Fuji's voice ever again. No more soft-spoken words of advice, no more fierce declarations, no more of the light humming under his breath. Those lips would not move anymore.

Tezuka couldn't even begin to imagine what the implications meant.

That Fuji was dead, would never stand at his side on a tennis court again, racket tucked under one arm, smile softly up at him and comment on their team mates antics. If he was to close his eyes, Tezuka could recall how Fuji's hair seemed to glimmer in the sunlight, how bright the world around them had been and how warm the sun on his skin.

It felt like light years away in the dim light of this oriental style, door-less building. The demon was watching them without much of an expression; maybe a little amused of the unrestrained display of shock on Tezuka's face.

The body in his arms was warm, still, and the pool of blood he knelt in continued to grow. However as Fuji rested against his chest, he could far too clearly tell that his friend's chest wasn't moving. No heartbeat, no breathing.

He couldn't even begin to believe it.

How on earth could that have happened? Hadn't he – just moments, or was it days, years; time had lost all its meaning anyway – promised himself to do whatever it took to keep Fuji out of harm's way? Hadn't it been enough to see his friend fall into a frozen pond once?

When had he stopped keeping his promises? Where had he failed?

His arms unconsciously tightened around Fuji's still body, drawing him closer against his chest – his nose caught of faint whiff of whatever shampoo Fuji had used to wash his hair among the overwhelming stench of copper.

Darkness danced invitingly at the corners of his vision, beckoning to him. Something in his soul trembled in resonance – how easy would it be, just to close his eyes, to let consciousness slip away, to escape this madness.

Maybe forever.

Like Fuji, who'd never wake again.

His heart shuddered. Never was such a long time – his brain couldn't really grasp the concept; it kept slipping around the corners, as if a part of him couldn't accept the stark reality in front of his eyes.

An impatient sight drew his gaze upward.

He hadn't even noticed her approach. Now, the woman who had so carelessly killed Fuji loomed over him, one corner of her mouth twisted upward – he couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a smile; her unfamiliar features completely unreadable to him.

"It's your friend's own fault," she said, with a shrug, "He ought to have had a good idea of what would happen to him when he decided to follow us."

Protest burned in Tezuka's stomach, yet his lips wouldn't move.

Apparently, she read his glare. "Oh, he knew, believe me. After all, your friend wasn't all that unfamiliar with beings like me, was he? He probably didn't tell you much of it – your society is amusingly terrified of accepting anything that might not suit your sweet explanation schemes – but he knew, Tezuka-kun."

Tezuka remembered the determination he had seen in Fuji's eyes. The lack of fear his friend had displayed in this last encounter.

Had Fuji…?

"It's a pity you're only starting to realize things now," she continued, "There's something about you that would have well been suited to… ah, I guess it doesn't matter now."

In the back of Tezuka's mind, something perked up at the far-away sound to her words, but he couldn't find a deeper meaning to it. Ice had begun to settle in his veins, making every movement twice as strenuous as it ought to be. A shudder ran through his body.

Though this cold had nothing to do with the temperatures inside the dimly lit room.

"But now let's finish our business. More than enough time has been wasted already." A faint smile played on her lips, as she tilted her face upwards. For the first time Tezuka grew aware of intricately shaped skylights in the richly ornamented ceiling.

The sky beyond was a bright, careless blue.

"Come," she said, "Nothing more can be done for your friend, but you might yet go home."

Tezuka wanted to scream at her. To plant his feet, stubbornly, like a small child. Cling to Fuji's body; refuse to move from his spot, yet…

What good would that do?

It wasn't as if he could still do anything for Fuji. It wasn't as if he'd get another chance at protecting his friend. He had already failed the one time it truly counted.

Automatism took him over. While Tezuka mulled over his failure, and what remained of his future, his hands mechanically, yet gently lowered Fuji's body to the floor. His heart ached as he watched the brown hair fan out on the floor; turning darker as it came into contact with drying blood.

The front of Fuji's white school shirt had turned bright red. There was a hole in the fabric where the sword – or whatever it had been – had pierced through flesh and skin; while the wound itself was ironically small. Even the reminder of the cut the demon had made on Tezuka's arm appeared larger.

He swallowed, and glanced away from the injury. Fuji's face was pale, yet peaceful. Eyes closed, and not a smile in sight, but completely relaxed – a kind of expression Tezuka would have enjoyed seeing at another time.

Right now however, he couldn't suppress a shudder.

'I'm sorry' he wanted to say. Bow, apologize, over and over again, just so he could hear Fuji's voice once more. He hadn't meant to let this happen; he hadn't meant for Fuji to get hurt in an affair that originally hadn't even concerned him.

But now things had processed far beyond a mere injury.

And Tezuka found he couldn't bear looking at Fuji's face anymore.

"You should let go," unbidden, the demon's voice cut through Tezuka's thoughts, "Right now you might think things can't get worse, but do believe me, they can. You are still alive after all, aren't you, boy?"

Something cold crawled down Tezuka's back and from the corner of his eye he caught a dark smile stretching across her face. "You don't really want to go the same way Hasegawa-kun went, do you? He also refused to cooperate with me in the beginning – and really, he actually had even a bit more of a chance than you have right now."

A small voice in Tezuka's head petulantly urged him to disagree. To stand up against her, no matter how much pain resistance would bring. No matter, if he would be sacrificing his life. After all, right now he couldn't even imagine living out the rest of his life. How should he ever grow to be sixty or seventy with Fuji's death on his conscience? Wouldn't a swift death be the better choice?

The demon on the other hand snorted; having watched emotions chase each other across Tezuka's unusually expressive face.

"I don't really care either way," she said, shaking her hair over one shoulder, "But what do you think your late friend would say about your decision?"

As if summoned, the memory arose, tearing painfully at Tezuka's heart. Fuji's eyes had been clear, bright and determined. Had he really known what fate awaited him here, as she had said? Had he…

He'd made Tezuka promise to run at the first possibility.

And then…

Something in Tezuka's recollection didn't quite make sense. There'd been an odd sense of accomplishment in Fuji's voice when he'd whispered those last words; a certainty that Tezuka would eventually receive the chance to flee.

But the situation he found himself in was even bleaker than before. So what was it that had changed Fuji's perception?

Before he could puzzle it out, Tezuka found his body was moving by itself. Having carefully set Fuji's body down on the marble floor, he rose to his feet and turned to face the demon. She wasn't, he realized, not much taller than himself in this shape, but the rich dress and her aura made her appear twice as large.

"It is good that you are still able to see reason," she commented, and gestured at Tezuka to follow her to a shady corner of the large, circular room, "It's a pity your friend chose not to. His death was unnecessary – but then again, human emotions have become difficult to understand."

Tezuka flinched at her careless mentioning of Fuji's actions. Whatever Fuji had done, he was certain his friend had had a plan. Recklessness didn't suit Fuji, no matter how desperate a situation grew. Yet his lips stayed frozen together.

"But who knows, once this ceremony is complete, I might just understand what your friend was thinking," she continued, as her steps carried her to the centre of a circle outlined in green marble on the ground.

There was a small pedestal in the centre, and an old, heavy book rested on top of it. Tezuka instinctively stretched his neck, but the scripture on the pages remained illegible, a scrawl of characters he did not recognize.

"You need to step on the other side of the book, Tezuka-kun," she said, "Other than that, there isn't anything you need to do. Once the ceremony has begun, things will arrange themselves. As I mentioned before, I have no need for your life as it is, so you might be able to walk from here without feeling any different. All I have need for is a part of your humanity, after all."

Her words barely even registered with Tezuka. He thoughts kept straying to Fuji's still body, hidden somewhere in the dim light behind him. What if his friend wasn't dead? What if he was conscious, what if his heart restarted?

The scriptures covering the walls were written in the same flowing, elegant writing as the old book the demon was leafing through. Or maybe she was no demon – Tezuka couldn't tell anymore, and he wasn't certain it mattered. Golden letters glittered ominously, and a shudder ran down his spine.

There was something in the air, an unfamiliar undercurrent that had every hair on his body standing. A soft breeze caressed his cheeks, tickled his nose and teased his senses. Was he imagining things? Were those ornaments glowing in the sunlight, or was it something else that enhanced their brightness?

When he turned his head, she had begun to mumble, fingers tracing the lines in the book. Tezuka felt numb – if this was to take his own life, he wouldn't mind.

Though hadn't he promised Fuji he would escape? Or at least die trying?

Dust rose into his nose, and a sharp wind picked up abruptly. Something began to shift in his chest – a hollow sensation, not painful, but nauseating. He couldn't see the far end of the room anymore; the demon, too, appeared an eternity away.

Her hair seemed to float in the air, glowing darkly. Power began to fill the entire chamber, thick and suffocating. Tezuka could barely think straight, as a myriad of strange emotions invaded his mind. The rush of his own blood filled his ears – he saw her lips move, but heard no words.

What was she chanting, what was that mysterious language, what were the words, what would they do? Had Fuji known what would happen? After all, Fuji had paid very little attention to his surroundings; a certainty to his actions that had left Tezuka stunned.

The air whirled around him, tearing at his clothes and buzzing with energy. Every nerve in his body tingled in response; like electricity running through him, though this felt entirely different. Overwhelming, all-encompassing, suffocating yet liberating at the same time.

Grief, shock and horror were wiped from his blood stream. His eyes widened, as the world around him abruptly grew clearer. Details he hadn't noticed before came to his attention – a second felt like a minute; and all common, unnoticed constraints of time, air pressure and those all too familiar limits of the human body vanished.

The tips of his fingers were numb, yet tickled with an odd energy. He felt more alive than ever before, but strangely disconnected from everything. As if the ground underneath his feet wasn't the real, as if the scenery in front of his eyes could disappear in the blink of an eye.

As if he could make the scenery change with just a flick of his wrist.

He barely noticed she had stopped reading from her book. The demon's eyes were wide, as the wind died down, and strangely filled with emotions. Tezuka could read disbelief, shock and surprise on her face.

It didn't faze him in the least – and perhaps that was the most alarming development of all.

Only minutes ago he'd been filled with despair, fear and pure horror. Now only a foreign sense of detachment remained. His utter helplessness had vanished. Instead he felt well adjusted to deal with the situation.

Maybe he was losing it.

Maybe it had all been too much, and now his brain had begun to shut down.

But she looked at him strangely, her dark eyes full of an unspoken suspicion. Then her head turned, and Tezuka caught her glancing in the direction of Fuji's body.

"It can't …" she uttered, pressing her lips together.

Silence hung heavily in the air, as the dust around them settled once again. Tezuka felt strange, as if unused to his body. Something had changed deep within him, though he couldn't tell what exactly it was.

The demon's eyes narrowed abruptly and she turned to Tezuka. "So the brat did have a good idea in the end. It's a pity the reversal of a transfer process is only valid once."

Alarm bells rang in Tezuka's head. He recalled Fuji urging him to flee, and unconsciously took a step backwards. His mind was racing.

"Oh, do stay here, Tezuka-kun. Just where do plan to go, anyway?"

There were no doors to the chamber, still, and the overhead lights far too high up and small for him to even reach. But weren't her words implying that the process she had intended to make had been reversed? And this process had involved transferring his humanity, or something?

So did that mean he had been turned into a demon?

He felt dizzy, yet powerful, his blood alive with an unfamiliar sensation. With barely a conscious thought he lifted his hand, flicked his wrist in the direction of a wall –

And it crumbled into a cloud of dust and debris, letting sunlight and fresh air flow into the room, together with a smell of plants and life, and all Tezuka could think about was the promise he had given Fuji.

If this was what Fuji had died for, he couldn't let things end here any longer.

His feet had begun to move before he had even processed the thought. The demon – was she still? – screeched in protest behind him, but he encountered no resistance. However formidable her power might have been previously, now it was barely even a tingle against his senses.

With light, fast steps he manoeuvred through the debris, paying no heed to the former demon yelling at him not to run, even as the ground underneath trembled from his power. This might be the world she had created, but the power was his now.

By some twist of fate that Fuji had elegantly orchestrated without even telling him, the demon's power had become Tezuka's to use.

Though it did not suffice to do the one thing he wished for most.

No power in existence would suffice to revive Fuji.

And if he did not want to reduce Fuji's work to nothing, he had to get away. Regardless of whatever awaited him once he got home.

Before he knew it, he had started running. To both sides, blossoming bushes rushed past, the marble under his feet glowing brightly in the sun. An odd sense of freedom filled his heart; another emotion he wasn't familiar with.

The power was messing with his feelings, Tezuka noted, but the realization left him unconcerned. Already the horror in face of Fuji's death was fading, being replaced by dulled anger and grim determination – and he wasn't certain, if this was the path his emotions would have taken under usual circumstances.

Would he turn into a creature like the demon had been? Had Fuji anticipated this as well?

The last flight of stairs loomed in front of him, and Tezuka raced them up, reaching once again the tiled hilltop. Around him, the landscape stretched endlessly, sandy in the distance, dotted with lush green pine trees, while the turquoise water of the pool reflected the endless blue of the sky overhead.

Fuji had told him just to jump in and think of home.

The foreign power in his body confirmed Fuji's words – he didn't doubt things would pass as predicted. Yet a part of his soul was wondering if leaving was the right decision now. The demon did not pose a danger any longer, not to him of all people.

But there wasn't anything he could do for Fuji anymore.

Going home was the only thing left to do.

Go home, tell Yumiko what had happened – his heart shuddered painfully – give an explanation to his parents.

And then…

Tezuka swallowed. Glanced up to the bright sky above – really, it felt as if the weather was mocking him – and took the step forward.

_tbc_

_Thank you for reading until this point, and should you have spied a mistake, or want to share your thoughts, opinions, impressions with me - please feel free to leave a review. ^_^ Meanwhile, I shall try my very best to make space for updating this fic somwhere in my timetable.  
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	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** PoT is not mine. ^_^

* * *

Twenty-one

Snowflakes swirled in the darkness around him, spinning in a mad dance that painted the world white. Icy air sharply bit into his skin, burned in his lungs and took his breath away. For a moment Tezuka couldn't see anything at all, only the firm ground underneath his feet anchored him to reality.

An odd sense of nausea lingered in the back of his stomach, as blood drained from his cheeks. Yet the cold was hardly bothering him, neither was his breath fogging up his glasses as it sometimes did on very cold winter days. His coat might have been lost in the nightmare, but he hardly cared. Something was gravely wrong - but at the same time it barely fazed him.

Maybe it was the nightmare he had just emerged from. Maybe it had been whatever twisted power had transported him from there to here. Or maybe it was whatever ceremony the demon had performed that was messing with his head.

He couldn't help the dizziness that arose, even as he recognized the familiar outlines of his family's backyard. Large pine trees loomed dark against the grey sky - daylight was faint or already fading; he had no idea how much time had passed while he'd been in the pocket dimension.

A gust of wind, branches shifted and revealed the outline of the house, well-preserved wood and warmly lit windows. Part of his heart ached to go in, huddle underneath a blanket with a hot cup of tea and a good book – pain abruptly spiked in his heart. Tezuka blinked, and pressed his lips together.

Could he retreat like this enticing memory suggested?

He took a step forward but stopped.

Could he return? Return to his life, when Fuji had just died in his arms? Was it really right for him to return to his family as if nothing had happened, when Fuji would never again return to his?

Did he have the right to go on as if all was right?

Maybe he ought to turn and run. Do something to make up for his failure before stepping in front of his family again. Tezuka swallowed. He didn't know what to do, and his normal sense of rationality had abandoned him, nothing but a small voice muttering nonsense in the back of his head.

And the snowflakes seemed to whisper; urge him to turn his back to the light. Fuji was dead; this was no place he could return to. The demon's ceremony had changed him; human warmth was no longer for him.

"Kunimitsu?" a sudden yell drew him from his contemplations. Abruptly he lifted his head; and his mother had already thrown open the back door and was rushing out to meet him, not caring to even change her shoes or throw on a coat.

"Kunimitsu, you're back, you're really back. I'm ... I was so worried. Are you alright? Did anything happen? Are you injured? Is..." Her breath was forming small clouds in the freezing air – and he had never heard her use this tone before.

Tezuka's eyes widened, as an odd sensation spread through his body. He was relieved, yet felt guilty at the same time, and something about his mother's behavior was off. Her hair wasn't in her usual neat bun, her clothes rumpled - and why wasn't she confused at his sudden arrival in the middle of the backyard?

"Is ... Is that blood?" her voice sounded faint, and her steps slowed. For a moment, the arms she had stretched out to embrace him wavered. "Kunimitsu, are you injured? Are you hurt?"

Finally Tezuka found his voice. With a very stiff shake of his head, he replied: " No, mother, I'm not hurt."

He did not know if he was alright or not – he felt dead on the inside, barely capable of feeling anymore. And the faint emotions he did sense were dulled, odd and gone within seconds.

His mother did not hesitate to draw him into a hug fiercer than any he could remember receiving. But as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, not minding the smell of blood that clung to his body or the snow soaking through her thin slippers, Tezuka could feel a faint spark of warmth light up in his own heart.

Something burned in the corner of his eye - fatigue, exhaustion, pain; he couldn't tell what he was feeling any longer. But for this sweet moment he could at least hold onto another human being.

"I was so afraid, you have no idea. What Fuji-san told me... Honestly, had I known any earlier what you got yourself into, Id have... But then again...and Kunikazu," she wasn't making sense right now.

A stab of fear attacked Tezuka's heart.

What on earth had happened to his grandfather? He only recalled the demon waving her wrist at him, and him keeling over without a noise. Was he...?

Slowly, but gently he detached himself from the embrace, so that he could look into his mother's face. She was visibly paler than normal, but there were no tear streaks, no signs of despair to be found there. Could he dare to hope his grandfather's life had been spared?

His heart trembled.

"Mother, what happened to grandfather?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

She took a deep breath, gathered herself and locked her eyes with his. "Well, the doctor suspects a small heart attack, but I'm not certain, and Fuji-san also was rather unconvinced. But let us go inside first; you're going to freeze to death in that shirt alone. What on earth happened to your clothes?"

Tezuka swallowed. How should he relate the fate that had befallen him; and the mention of Fuji's sister made him only too aware of the news he had to break – he felt sick. News he still couldn't believe himself. Maybe he had been dreaming all the time?

So he let himself be ushered inside by his mother, trying frantically to find a way to deal with everything going on. There were so many questions to address, so many things to relay, he didn't even know where he ought to begin.

"How are you feeling?" his mother asked once more, her tone a little graver than before, once she had shut the door behind him. His grandfather's study was still a mess - another reminder it hadn't all just been one horrific nightmare.

"Are you sure you are alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

As Tezuka shook his head in a silent reply to all those questions, his mother's expression began to change. She pressed her lips together, and swallowed. "Maybe you still should get a check up at the hospital. Just grab a change of clothes; we need to go there anyway, after what happened to Kunikazu and Fuji-kun."

Tezuka's head shot up like a rocket.

"What?" he asked, his voice strangled.

His mother blinked. "As I said, nobody knows for sure yet, but it was luck the emergency team had already been there after Fuji-san called an ambulance on Kunikazu's behalf. They couldn't pin down what was wrong with Kunikazu, but then Fuji-kun just stopped breathing from one moment to another, and we almost wouldn't have noticed since Fuji-san collapsed at about the same time."

Tezuka's eyes widened. His head spun with thoughts he didn't dare complete; the sheer imaginations were making him dizzy. Could it be?

His heart faltered.

Could it be that Fuji was not dead yet?

There was blood on his shirt, and he could still remember how Fuji's body had felt against his; warm, soft and like a puppet with its string cut; but maybe, maybe there was still hope left. The implications of his mother's words, the subtle string of causality connecting the events she spoke of - those made his fingers tingle and his heart burn with anticipation.

It would … actually make sense.

Could he really dare to hope again?

His mother kept talking, unaware of what her words were doing to him, lost in her own recollections – the slight shaking of her fingers, the disarray of her hair posed silent reminders of the turbulences that had occurred in their home.

"It was all utterly confusing. One moment we were trying to figure out whatever happened to Kunikazu, the next Fuji-san just fell over clutching her chest," a shadow crossed Ayana's face, "If she hadn't woken in time and told us to look for her brother, we wouldn't even have noticed he had stopped breathing at all, the poor boy."

She shook her head, while Tezuka's mind was spinning. Fuji had been with him. Had challenged the demon – how could he have been with his mother and Yumiko at the same time?

Ayana turned around and gave him a weak smile. "I'm only glad you're here, whole and safe. The emergency doctor did assure me that Kunikazu ought to recover soon, but Fuji-kun's condition had him quite worried. If you're feeling up to it, I would like to go and see them. Fuji-san accompanied them to the hospital, while I waited for you."

Tezuka clenched his fists to stop himself from shaking. His heart was fluttering with barely concealed anticipation, even though his mind kept spinning like a maelstrom. "I'll change, and then we can leave," he muttered, and stumbled up the stairs.

He was as anxious as he was happy – caught in a strange state of disbelief. When Fuji had died in his arms, he had been unable to make sense of the fact, even though everything had happened in front of his eyes. Now, accepting that he could start hoping again made him dizzy beyond reason.

How could it have happened? Fuji had been in the pocket dimension, together with him and the demon. He had been real – but his mother's words confirmed a different reality; said clearly that Fuji had been here, at his family's house the entire time.

And hadn't he left Fuji's body in the building, back there, when he had run away with barely a clear thought in his head other than the need to escape? How could his friend be in a hospital then?

A very small, very unfamiliar, mocking voice in the back of his head seemed to be laughing. There was an answer, it suggested, a simple answer – the voice reminded him of the demon.

But what would expect him at the hospital? What if he went there, just to witness his friend die a second time? What if Fuji's condition had worsened in the meantime and he had already passed on? His heart burned; he wanted badly to cling onto the faint ray of hope his mother's words had sparked, but was afraid to do so at the same time.

Everything else passed in a blur - Tezuka did not remember throwing on a clean shirt, only that everything seemed to take far too long. His heart was racing, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

Once they were in the car, Tezuka bit his lip. Did he dare to ask for more details? Did he dare to reveal his own encounter?

Would a careless word turn the events that had occurred in the pocket dimension into reality?

He took a deep breath. Whatever had happened – he would have to face the results anyway. Asking might help to alleviate the mess his mind had become. And maybe, maybe he could puzzle the pieces together, as that foreign sensation in his chest suggested.

"Mother," he began, carefully watching his mother maneuver the car into the little traffic that populated the snow-covered roads, "Could you, perhaps, tell me what happened here?"

She sighed. "I might not be the best person to answer that question, Kunimitsu, as I don't understand much of it either. I tried to ask Fuji-san for an explanation, but she was understandably distracted."

He nodded, and she swallowed. "When I came home, I had no idea anything was wrong. The front door was open, so I suspected burglars, but as soon as I entered Fuji-san called me over. And then I found her in the study, trying to raise Kunikazu, and Fuji-kun was unconscious on the floor, completely soaked."

Tezuka nodded, his fingers unconsciously tightening in the fabric of his trousers. Ayana kept her eyes on the road, now that they were moving into a more populated area.

"She had already called an ambulance, and told me the two of you had been mixed up in an affair involving a powerful spirit, which apparently had also taken out Kunikazu," she was silent for a moment, "I really wish you had told me earlier. As hard to believe this story is, I would have preferred knowing beforehand to coming home to such a disaster."

And she did not yet know the entire story. Tezuka felt guilt well up in his chest; he knew he ought to have told his mother. She wasn't showing it, but she probably was disappointed. He should have known she would be able to overcome her misgivings concerning the supernatural – right now she had shown no problems speaking of spirits and occult events.

"I was rather concerned about your whereabouts, Kunimitsu," Ayana continued, "Kunikazu was probably going to be alright, but Fuji-san was unable to tell me exactly where you had disappeared to. The only reassurance she could give me was that by some occult method Fuji-kun had followed."

Tezuka swallowed. The pieces were beginning to form a picture – a bizarre one, that under normal circumstances he would have never dared to even think about. But as the voice of reason he had been familiar with had faded, another one had taken its place. One that seemed acquainted with the odd sensations assaulting him.

One that understood the supernatural.

He could not tell how – but the idea, that by some trick Fuji had been able to be at two places at the same time appeared fathomable. Especially since the place of action had been a pocket dimension. And if he suspected correctly, Yumiko had been the one to instigate it.

It would explain her collapse.

"Where did you go, Kunimitsu?" his mother asked, pulling him abruptly from his thoughts, "What happened there?"

Where had all that blood come from, she wanted to ask. Tezuka pressed his lips together.

"It's… complicated," he hesitantly offered. "Imagine some sort of a parallel dimension. It looked like a foreign place, probably somewhere in the south. What happened there…"

He swallowed – his mother did concentrate on the road, but he could tell she was closely hanging onto his words. Could he bear to tell the entire story? Especially when Fuji might still live here?

A part of him – one that sounded suspiciously like his old self – firmly reminded him that after everything he had kept from her, he should tell the entire truth this time. No matter how painful it was, after all the secrets he had kept, he owed her this.

But the words that fell from his lips were different. "The demon tried to perform a ceremony, but as Fuji interfered, it did not go as planned. Things … became a bit chaotic at that point, and I escaped."

His mother drew a sharp breath. Tezuka flinched; obviously she could tell he was obscuring things – but let it slide. "And Fuji-kun?" she inquired.

Once again, the scene flashed in front of his eyes – the sudden blossoming of blood on his friend's chest from a small, fatal wound, the way Fuji had collapsed, the tranquil expression on his face after his eyes had fluttered shut for the last time.

Cold sweat covered Tezuka's hands. "I … we got separated in the chaos. I don't know…"

Ayana's lips formed a very thin line at those words. She glanced at her son sharply from the corner of her eye, before turning her attention back to the traffic.

"Fuji-san mentioned he ought to wake up once you get back," she volunteered, "I do not understand the details, but she was very certain you would arrive in our backyard, if not in the pond itself. But that was before she collapsed herself and Fuji-kun stopped breathing."

Tezuka nodded. In the distance he spied the hospital they were heading for, and his heart fluttered anxiously in his chest. He didn't want to think about all the possibilities of what he could find.

But in the back of his mind, he was more than certain that Yumiko's collapse had been brought about the moment Fuji had been attacked by the demon. And when his friend had died in his arms in the pocket dimension, he might as well have stopped breathing in this world.

It made sense.

But it did not bide well for Fuji's condition.

Because even if modern science and medical knowledge might have been able to keep his friend's body alive –

He might still be dead.

* * *

They met Yumiko on the third floor, her face pale and drawn. Tezuka swallowed, and straightened instinctively, even if he felt like running away. Guilt sharply stabbed him in the chest.

"Fuji-san," Ayana began, "Thank you very much for everything. Please, if there is any way me and my family can help you, tell us what to do."

Tezuka, too, bowed his head. He could feel Yumiko's eyes lingering on him, tired but sharp. There were unanswered questions in the air between them, but she abruptly turned away from him.

"Thank you very much for the offer, Tezuka-san, but at the moment there isn't much that can be done," she glanced down the corridor, "I did however just encounter the physician in charge of your father-in-law, and he told me his condition is fine. They expect him to wake up soon, though they would like him to spend the night in the hospital for observation only."

Tezuka couldn't help feeling relieved at the news, yet at the same time the flat tone in Yumiko's voice made him worry. He had never seen this expression on her face – and deep down in his chest he wondered if she could tell what had happened.

If she knew that Fuji had given his life in order for him to escape.

Did she hate him for that?

"Thank you very much," Ayana repeated, "If I may inquire, how is your brother?"

Yumiko visibly tensed, and she turned in order to look away from both of them. "His condition is unchanged, as of now. The physician I spoke to wasn't clear on the details yet, however…"

Her voice trailed off, and Tezuka felt his throat constrict.

"Maybe you should go and see your friend, Kunimitsu," his mother suggested, "I will look how Kunikazu is doing, meanwhile."

The glance Yumiko cast into Ayana's direction was unreadable. "Why not," she commented, "He is in IC; so you need to go to the station desk and ask them to let you in."

She wasn't looking at him.

* * *

The room was stark white, and didn't even hold the few amenities with which hospitals often sought to make their rooms more inviting. There were no pictures on the walls, there wasn't even enough space left for a table beside all the machines. Flowers, and gifts had been declared a taboo anyway, and the instructions of the nurse still rang in Tezuka's ears.

Fuji's case was a very special one, highly delicate, and they couldn't risk exposing their patient to further stress. He felt strange in the green plastic garment and scared too. What if he hadn't washed his hands properly? What if something he did would abruptly end Fuji's life?

There were many machines; Tezuka realized the moment he entered, far more than he had anticipated. A wild assortment of Wires and tubes connected his friend to various appliances, bubbling with differently colored liquids. Tezuka swallowed down the dizziness attacking him suddenly, and stepped closer.

Fuji rested motionless against the pillows, his face pale and relaxed. And motionless. It reminded Tezuka painfully of the last time he had seen his friend like this, when Fuji had been a warm weight in his arms.

But there was no blood right now.

Even though an oxygen mask covered the lower half of Fuji's face, he was breathing. Tezuka drew a shuddering breath himself, before carefully making his way to Fuji's bedside. It was disturbing to see his friend lie so lifelessly on those white sheets, his skin barely a shade darker. At least Fuji did not seem to be in any pain.

It was a small consolation.

In this moment, Fuji looked more like a porcelain doll than a breathing human being. As if he could shatter at the lightest touch – the one arm that rested on top of the bed covers looked incredibly thin. Dimly Tezuka was aware that emotions were blurring his perception; Fuji wasn't fragile, had never been, and had he been awake, he would have made sure Tezuka remembered that.

But Fuji wasn't awake right now.

And there was no way to tell if he would ever wake up again.

The weight that had been lifted from Tezuka's heart the moment he had heard his mother mention that Fuji was still alive in this world, settled once again on his shoulders, heavier than before. It had been foolish to hope the events that had occurred in the pocket dimension would have left thing here untouched.

Not when he himself still felt different.

Carefully he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Fuji's forehead. The skin was cool – and his friend did not react in the slightest to the touch. No hitch in his even breathing, no fluttering eyelashes – nothing.

Tezuka pressed his lips together. His eyes were burning – but he couldn't break down here. Not when he was practically at fault for the state his friend was in. So he stepped back, gathered himself and turned to leave.

He already had one hand on the doorknob, when he heard the voices.

"... Should not let this proceed." the voice was unfamiliar, deep, male and obviously not very pleased with the situation.

"I am well aware this does not agree with standard procedures," Fuji Yumiko replied, tense, "But as far as I understand his condition has not been thoroughly understood yet."

"I am sorry if I wasn't clear enough earlier, miss," the man forced himself to be calm, and Tezuka swallowed, "While we may not understand what has caused your brother's condition, the condition itself is medically clear. As it is, he is only alive due to the machines he is connected to. He is neither breathing on his own, nor is his heart beating by itself."

Yumiko drew a deep, audible breath.

"I am sorry to say it, but this condition clearly cannot be reversed," the other continued, "From a medical point of view your brother is dead."

"I see," Yumiko's reply was flat.

"I am very sorry for your loss," the man said, sounding while not entirely honest, at least quite understanding, "And I can understand that it is difficult to fathom under these circumstances. However we are obliged to let nature have its way."

"You mean let him die," Yumiko shot back.

The man sighed. "I know this is complicated, but your brother's situation is different from a coma patient on life support. Let me try to find a simple explanation – most coma patients' hearts beat on their own, or at least without the steady support of a machine. However should we disconnect your brother from the machine, his heart would stop instantly."

Tezuka's palms felt sweaty. His fingers had clenched around the doorknob, he had forgotten all around the world around him.

"It is a harsh way of wording it, but you need to understand that your brother is already dead, Fuji-san," the man said, "I'm very sorry."

Dizziness surged in Tezuka. Had he really returned to lose Fuji a second time?

A grave sigh from Yumiko. "I understand," she said, sounding strangely defeated, "But please at least wait until our parents had a chance to say goodbye."

_tbc_

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_Thank you for reading! And if you have an opinion you want to share, or found a mistake - please leave a review!  
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	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** PoT is not mine.

* * *

This is where I sincelery apologize for not updating in four or five month. It is especially embarrassing since I have finished writing this fic last year, however I can't seem to get around to uploading those chapters. Real life has been busy, though what actually kept me from updating is that certain developments with people very close stop me from enjoying writing and fandom as much as I used to. Since I don't believe this situation will improve, I'm just doing my best to get used to it. And once I get my mojo back, I'll be able to enjoy fandom and get around to update regularly. ^_~

On this: thank you to everyone who reviewed. While I did not manage to type individual replies this time around, I read every review and take them to heart - and also feel very, very guilty for leaving everybody hanging (and as you can see, this guilty conscience gets me around to updating. It'll also get me around to adressing reviews individually once more).

So now, here's the next chapter, and well, while it only makes sense when you remember what happened before, I remember having enjoyed writing it. ^_^

tl;dr: I'm sorry for not updating sooner, extremely grateful for all your reviews and hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

* * *

**Twenty-two**

There were no words to describe what Tezuka was feeling.

Frozen to the spot, he couldn't help wishing it wasn't true. The words he had just heard, the decision Yumiko had hinted at - would he really have to watch Fuji die a second time? Those white walls seemed to be closing in, and Tezuka unconsciously clutched the door handle tighter.

The clicking of Yumiko's heels faded into the distance, another door fell shut, and Tezuka was once more entirely alone with Fuji. Or the empty shell that remained of his friend. Very slowly he drew a deep breath. No matter how desperately he prayed this wouldn't come to pass, a little voice that sounded suspiciously like the logical part of his mind urged him to accept this truth.

Once more his eyes came to rest on Fuji's motionless figure.

He didn't want to lose his friend.

The experience had been horrifying enough the first time. Never again, a part of his soul had screeched, while the pain left him wordless. Never again did he want to lose somebody so close to himself.

His heart ached.

There was another feeling bubbling up in his chest. Almost unnoticeable beside all the desperation, anxiety and hopelessness, but there was something else, something foreign. Deep in himself he could feel anger rising.

Anger at the demon.

Anger at what had happened.

And a grim determination not to let such events pass twice. He might not rationally understand where the conviction behind that sentiment stemmed from, but it was frighteningly strong.

After everything Fuji had done to protect him from harm, Tezuka found there was little he should stop short of. The demon hadn't pulled her shots, either. His fingertips were tingling – that foreign reservoir of energy longed to be put to use.

It was time for him to act, before more innocent bystanders became involved. His stomach twisted reflexively as the memory of Hasegawa's gory end rose to the surface, but he could brush it aside his time. He wouldn't wait until the demon came to him now.

Tezuka glanced at Fuji's pale face one more time. Eyes closed, expressionless yet peaceful - part of Tezuka's heart throbbed at the thought that his own foolishness had condemned Fuji to this fate. But whatever it took, he wouldn't passively watch the nightmare unfold.

Not any longer.

"I'll take care of things from now on," he vowed silently, his lips unmoving; "I won't let you die."

* * *

Leaving the small hospital room, he almost ran into Yumiko. She was whiter than her brother, and her eyes faintly red-rimmed, but the expression in them was hard. Tezuka recalled the coldness of their last encounter, and couldn't help but swallow as Yumiko fixed him with a very critical, gauging stare.

"Tezuka-kun," she greeted, formally inclining her head, "Did you say your goodbyes?"

Tezuka couldn't help the widening of his eyes. Did she know he had overheard the earlier conversation? Yumiko caught his reaction and smiled bitterly.

"You should do so," she said, "The good doctor isn't willing to keep Syusuke hooked to the machines a minute longer than strictly necessary – and unless you know something I don't, my brother isn't going to wake up on his own."

There was a spark behind the hard facade she wore, Tezuka abruptly realized. Yumiko didn't believe this situation was beyond hope, either. Though unlike him, she couldn't rationalize her impression – nor could she convince the attending doctor.

Tezuka pressed his lips together. "I think it might be too early to say goodbye yet."

Yumiko's facial expression didn't change in the slightest. Instead she pressed her lips firmly together. "What happened?"

Tezuka surreptitiously glanced down the corridor, but aside from two nurses chatting at the information desk at the far end, it was empty. Still he kept his voice low, fearing somebody to overhear their conversation.

He wasn't entirely certain he read Yumiko's behavior correctly – never before had she scrutinized him that critically. And a part of him – as unfamiliar as the sensation was – was very wary of her and her abilities. Even though he logically understood that she was the one person who could provide help now.

But his own powers surpassed hers, now. Surpassed hers by far. What help could he expect from her, a small, malevolent voice whispered. Wasn't he just wasting time?

Tezuka energetically shoved those thoughts aside and forced his lips to move. "Fuji... He did something to manipulate whatever the demon was doing; I believe it caused some of the demon's powers to be transferred onto myself. Before that came to pass however, the demon killed him..."

He swallowed, still wondering how he could best explain his sudden urge to flee the scene then. Yumiko frowned. "That's not good, though it does explain quite a couple of things. As you probably realized, unlike you, my brother wasn't bodily present in that place. Neither he nor me wield enough power to enable a bodily transportation from one place to another, so instead I employed a technique to transport his ... spirit, or soul, if you will, while his body stayed here and I was acting as the anchor connection both."

Tezuka nodded, his mind picturing an invisible thread. The idea appeared weird to him, but familiar and easy to understand at another level. He blinked.

His mind was acting strangely.

"However the moment he was killed that connection was cut," Yumiko looked more than unhappy, "It was a foolish idea to use that technique..."

Tezuka bit his lip. It all came back to him - if he hadn't allowed the demon to drag him away, Fuji wouldn't have had a reason to chase after him. Yumiko wouldn't have had to employ this technique, and things would still be alright.

She sighed. "This is an area I am not very familiar with, as it is only accessible to those with power far surpassing my own. But I have reason to believe, there's a good chance the connection between Syusuke's soul and body could be restored."

Yumiko caught his eye, and Tezuka held his breath. "Though for that one would need to go back to that place and search."

It fit with what Tezuka's instincts were telling him to do. Use his new powers, go back to the place, find the demon and reverse the events that had occurred. He might not know how to do this, but he could feel the power necessary tickling his fingertips.

In response to Yumiko's statement he nodded.

If there is any way, his mind supplied, though his lips remained silent.

"The pond outside will do," Yumiko muttered, turning away again, "Your own powers are more than sufficient."

He felt her eyes gauging him once again, and couldn't help but wonder how much the demon's work had changed him in her eyes. Were the changes in him obvious to everybody capable of seeing this kind of thing? Would Fuji, too, gaze at him with that distant, gauging expression?

"Go and say hello to your grandfather. I will be waiting outside in an hour."

* * *

Tezuka stopped in front of the door leading to his grandfather's hospital room for a moment to take a breath and collect himself. He was nervous, anxious – while going to visit his grandfather was important, he'd rather go and seek Fuji right now.

Waiting was straining his nerves.

And he felt horrible. He should be worried for his grandfather just as much. That everybody told him Kunikazu was well did not mean much – nobody had given him details, and the last he had seen was him collapsing after the demon's careless attack.

How could he dismiss his own grandfather so lightly?

He clenched his fists, then raised his hand and knocked before entering.

His parents, as well as his grandfather turned to see him. The room was well lit, there were already two bouquets of flowers sitting on a nearby table, and several teacups filled with steaming liquid. Warm air rushed to meet his cheeks, carrying a faint aroma of tea and sweets.

"Kunimitsu," his mother rose to greet him, "Come in and sit down. Do you want a cup of tea?"

Tezuka swallowed, and then followed his mother's invitation. He couldn't help but carefully observe his grandfather – but the old man appeared healthy, down to the color of his skin.

"How are you?" he heard himself ask, and his voice sounded oddly choked.

"Fine, fine, you all worry far too much," Kunikazu replied with a kind smile, before his face became serious again, "But how are you, Kunimitsu? Ayana couldn't give me details, but between what I saw and what she said, your day did not pass quite so well."

Tezuka felt how even his father's eyes came to rest on him, filled with curiosity and confusion. A part of him wanted to turn and run.

Where should he even begin to explain? How to, without appearing insane?

"Kenta called me earlier," Kunikazu continued after a moment, "They arrived here just two hours ago and are on their way. They're very sorry about everything that happened. Furthermore, they already informed me that I had to accept an explanation involving the supernatural."

He took a sip of his tea before carrying on. "While I might not be fond of such, I understand that a demon or a creature of that kind is involved here. So please, Kunimitsu, if you could just tell us what occurred to you."

"We aren't expecting any rational explanations or anything," Ayana added, "We're just worried."

Something deep in Tezuka's stomach twisted. Here he was, with three persons concerned for his welfare, willing to drop everything they believed in until now, just for his sake – while only two floors away Fuji and his sister were on their own, with nobody offering to accept anything defying the laws of nature for their sake.

And there wasn't anything he could do to change it.

But at least he could assuage his family's worries.

"It's all quite complicated, and I don't really understand the details either," Tezuka eventually said, "The demon has been chasing after an object Nakayama-san left in grandfather's care. She needed it for some sort of a ritual concerning a transfer of power – at least that was how I understood it."

He had to swallow and speak past the odd lump in his throat. "Fuji and I were needed for some reason, but Fuji did something to make that ritual go wrong. Afterwards everything got quite chaotic and I escaped…"

His voice trailed off – probably everybody in the room could tell he had neither told the entire story, nor everything he knew. But his grandfather nodded in satisfaction.

"So you aren't injured?"

"No, I'm perfectly fine," Tezuka replied.

"That's good to hear," his father commented with a lopsided smiled, "If I have to be honest, I'm utterly confused at the moment. But how is Fuji-kun? I heard he was hospitalized as well, though you said he was at that odd place with you…"

Blood drained away from Tezuka's face. "There was some odd … well, Fuji-san made it possible for Fuji to follow me to the demon's pocket dimension, while his body remained here."

His father blinked. "Okay, well, no, I don't really understand that, but it sounds logical. As long as everybody knows what they're doing, I guess it's okay."

"But how is Fuji-kun doing right now? Did he wake up?" Ayana tilted her head, observing Tezuka's reactions closely.

"No," Tezuka muttered, wondering how on earth he was supposed to break the news to his parents. Nobody in the room expected words as drastic as those he ought to speak – ought to tell them that by all modern medical standards, Fuji was dead.

"He…" Tezuka took a deep breath, "Fuji-san told me that the doctors here consider him comatose with no chance of recovery."

It wasn't the truth, but it was close.

Ayana paled, the relaxed smile vanished from his father's face and his grandfather frowned deeply. "How on earth… what happened?" His father uttered, shell-shocked, "I mean, how do they know he won't recover? Coma patients have woken up after years, so why…?"

"When Fuji-kun stopped breathing then," Ayana's voice cut sharply through her husband's ramblings, "Did we notice too late?"

Tezuka shook his head and turned his gaze to the floor. "When Fuji disturbed the demon's work at that place, she attacked him. That attack … was fatal."

"Even though his body wasn't actually there?" His father inquired, disbelief thick in his voice.

"Yes," Tezuka replied, "I don't know how it worked, but it was what caused Fuji's condition."

"Oh dear," Ayana muttered and fell silent. The warm air suddenly felt suffocating to Tezuka, as he watched his parents mull over his words. He longed to leave the room, to make his way to the lake, but he had still almost half an hour left.

"Is there no way to reverse it?" his grandfather inquired abruptly, "I may not understand much of these things, but if you were to explain the details of what occurred to Fuji-san, might she not know a method?"

"I already talked to her," Tezuka replied, "We're not certain."

"But are you going to try?" His father asked.

Tezuka nodded, and a shadow of a grim smile crossed his father's face. "That's good. If we can help with anything, you'll tell us, won't you?"

"Yes," Tezuka muttered, and found he couldn't stay any longer. There was time left, but the staying with his family only made him grow painfully aware of the support he had. He had to leave before he ended up dragging them deeper into this mess.

His parents shouldn't be sitting here, worrying for him and Fuji.

Or offering this sort of unconditional support that made his insides twist.

"If you don't mind, I'll go now," he said and drained his teacup. The liquid was still warm – when all Tezuka could think of was how cold Fuji had looked, alone in that colorless room.

"I'll come with you," his mother announced and stood up, "I'd like to speak to Fuji-san for a moment."

His mother silently followed Tezuka to the staircase. When he turned to head down, she stopped and questioningly tilted her head. Fuji's room was upstairs.

"I'll first head to the cafeteria," Tezuka explained – he'd rather spend time alone to concentrate on what would come next. Maybe he could think up some sort of a plan before he met up with Yumiko, "I expect Fuji-san will still be upstairs, though."

Ayana nodded. "I see. Kunimitsu," she took a deep breath, "Promise me one thing. Whatever you do, make sure you don't endanger your own life. I don't want to see Fuji-kun die – but I'm certain he wouldn't want to see you die for his sake either."

A cold shudder ran down Tezuka's spine. It was with a dry mouth, that he uttered a reply.

"I will, mother."

* * *

He was early, almost by fifteen minutes, but Tezuka couldn't stand to wait any longer. So he had left the suffocating warmth of the hospital cafeteria and made his way to the small pond on hospital grounds. Snow crunched under his feet, his breath fogged in the frosty air and he found he had almost forgotten the feeling of icy air biting into his skin.

He stuffed his hands deeply into the pockets of his coat and tilted his head up. Beyond the white walls of the hospital the sky was dark, and not a star visible. The lights of the city enabled him to faintly discern the outlines of heavy clouds, and he wondered when this winter was finally going to be over.

In his mind it felt like it had been going on for years.

The hospital yard looked desolate, half-swallowed by snow and not a soul in sight.

Better for what he was about to do, Tezuka resumed. Maybe they should relocate to a place fader away from other human beings, but... Time was short as it was.

"Waiting for somebody?" an eerily familiar voice cut through the silence.

Tezuka whirled around. Seated on a snow-covered stone, wearing a light beige coat, was the demon. Once again it had taken Mori-san's form, down to the benign smile on her weathered face.

The snow next to her was melting, Tezuka noticed.

For a split second he was surprised at the lack of fear he felt at seeing the demon once again. Things had drastically changed.

Instead of replying, Tezuka merely tilted his head.

"Your friend did throw quite a wrench in my plans," she chuckled, "But I guess you aren't really happy with the results either."

Tezuka swallowed. Was she offering to cooperate? Why wasn't Yumiko here yet? She would be able to judge the situation better.

He kept his silence, stalling for time.

"Well, as you might have already guessed, there is a way to reverse this," she smiled invitingly, "A very simple way that would save your friend - what do you say, Tezuka-kun, are you willing to give up those new powers in exchange for your friend's life?"

His fingers clenched in his pockets, and Tezuka let out a long breath, watching the small cloud disappear into the winter night.

"What are the details of your offer?"

"You're asking where the catch is," Mori concluded, "Well; there is small risk to your health, but nothing dramatic. If you want the details - first I need my powers back, after that we need to search for your friend's soul, but I can't do that without my powers."

It sounded... reasonable.

"Or don't you want your friend back?" she tilted her head, her smile widening. Carelessly she wiped a few snowflakes from the lapels of her coat, "I heard the poor boy isn't doing very well. How long does he have left? I guess not too long from your expression, but I might err."

Tezuka's blood ran cold. His logical failed to answer, and even those new, foreign emotions remained silent in response to her bait. Only his heart desperately clung to her promise, urged him to agree – even for the hint of a chance.

He didn't know how to bring Fuji back, after all.

And for all horrors the demon had committed, she held that knowledge. She could help where even raw power failed.

"How curious. I remember standing on a pond – not too different from this one – and when your friend was in danger of drowning, you didn't hesitate to help," she shrugged, "Well, maybe you changed your mind since then. Maybe you feel your association with him only brought you into this?"

Thoughtfully she gazed through the dark yard. The pleasant greenery had been buried by layers of snow and eyes, and the darkness did the rest to dispel any notion of comfort. Tezuka's breath kept forming small clouds in the icy air.

"The world did not change a lot, I see," there was an odd note to her voice. Almost wistful, or – dare he say it – melancholy, "Still not inclined to accept the supernatural or those associated with it. Does your friend know about your changed feelings?"

Tezuka could only blink in confusion. His mind was racing to catch up with her words. What… what was she implying? Was she still trying to bait him into accepting her offer?

"Well, if you don't intend to save him," she smiled, and it struck him as honest, "It might be better if he dies without knowing of your betrayal."

There were no words to describe the feelings that rose in his chest. Indignation, coupled with furious anger – and a grain of icy doubt – what if his actions really looked like betrayal? Hadn't he run away then? He'd believed Fuji dead, but was that really enough of a reason?

"It's …" he started.

A shot ripped through the night.

Blood splattered on the snow.

And Tezuka watched in helpless fascination, as Mori's body jerked before sliding limply of the stone. Her body hit the ground with a muffled thud – and the snow around her began to turn red.

"Those poisonous words are not to be underestimated," a familiar voice coolly announced. Tezuka slowly turned his head, his heart hammering in his chest. His brain still frantically tried to catch up with what had just occurred – and then he recognized Nakayama Kenta standing in front of the hospital exit, clad in a dark coat, black metal glinting in his gloved hands.

"But without her powers, this demon is just an ordinary human," he said, "And as thus vulnerable to human weapons."

_tbc_

* * *

_If you have any comments, or critique you want to share - please do so. ^_^  
_


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer:** PoT is not mine.

* * *

Once again, thank you very much for your reviews. I enjoy reading them - and I hope you enjoy reading this story just as much. ^_^

Without further ado, onward!

* * *

**Twenty – three**

Tezuka stared in frozen horror as Mori's body hit the snow-covered ground with a dull thud. Sprinkles of blood, almost invisible in the dim light, covered the rock she had been sitting on – now it hid her from view. His brain frantically tried to collect his scattered thoughts, to find something to hold onto among this chaos, but he couldn't even think straight.

Couldn't make sense of what he was seeing.

"Humans can die," Nakayama was saying, his voice grave and unforgiving, "And as she is mostly human right now, this demon, too, can die."

What should he…

Nakayama sounded satisfied – and Tezuka did not know what to feel.

Snow crunched underneath his boots as he stepped closer to Tezuka. The heavy footsteps barely penetrated the haze enveloping Tezuka's mind. He didn't turn around, even when Nakayama had almost reached him.

She had offered him a way to save Fuji.

Or had that been a trap? He was certain any deal she offered had to be faulty, yet had she – as her words had implied – known a way to bring Fuji back? Could he bring Fuji back without her help?

A foreign burning tingled in his fingers – this wasn't a question of capacity any longer. Should blunt force be needed, he had ample to provide, but without anybody to guide his actions he had no idea what to do. Even the faint instinct that firmly reminded him that yes, in spite of everything modern medicine taught him, Fuji wasn't beyond saving, remained silent.

And a part of him felt distinctly upset at Nakayama's actions.

"Are you alright, Kunimitsu?" Nakayama inquired, "Did she do anything to you?"

Numbly, Tezuka shook his head.

"Looks as if I arrived just in time then," he sighed, and Tezuka saw his shoulders relax from the corner of his eye. The gun remained in plain sight, loosely held at his side. "You probably know, but that creature was rather dangerous. Even without her powers, she could have caused no little damage, and…"

"What is going on here?" Fuji Yumiko's eyes were wide, betraying the calm tone of her voice. Her glance strayed from Tezuka, to the blood-sprinkled snow behind him. The large rock hid Mori-san's body from view, but as Yumiko caught sight of the gun in Nakayama's hand, she could put the pieces together.

Tezuka had never heard her arrive – the characteristic clacking of her high-heeled boots must have been completely swallowed by the snow.

"Fuji-san," Nakayama raised his voice, cool and collected, "It has been quite a while. Forgive me if I forgo the formalities, but I believe this affair is rather pressing."

Tezuka could only watch in tense silence as Yumiko firmly pressed her lips together. "Nakayama-san," she replied, sounding almost hostile, "Though it has indeed been some time, I rather agree with your suggestion."

She turned to Tezuka so fast, that the light layer of snow that had collected on her coat flew off. "Tezuka-kun, did something happen?"

Abruptly Tezuka felt very uncomfortable under the intense stares of both, Yumiko and Nakayama. A part in him resented the sensation – they should cower before him! – but he swallowed and forced himself to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"The demon, she approached me and offered a way to… return him," Tezuka haltingly said. The words wouldn't come to him. The gun in Nakayama's hand was making him more nervous with each passing minute.

The relaxed way the man held the weapon, his uncaring attitude toward the demon; it left an odd taste in his mouth. He wanted to at least look at its body, just to make sure he wasn't going to be attacked from behind. But Nakayama appeared entirely unconcerned.

Unconsciously Tezuka made to flex his fingers in his pockets, and found them stiff. Yumiko nodded at him, obviously waiting for him to continue.

"The offer… sounded convincing, though I was suspicious. Then…" he glanced to Nakayama.

The elderly man offered a slight smile – the first Tezuka saw on his face this day, and it made him appear a lot more sympathetic, all of a sudden. When he was younger, he had looked up to this man, for his knowledge and wisdom.

Nakayama still understood more of this affair than he did, Tezuka realized, regardless of the man's late arrival on the scene. However he wasn't quite sure how far he could trust him anymore.

Something, a small voice in the back of his head told him, had fundamentally changed.

"The creature probably had quite a tempting offer, and as outright refusal in face of those is often difficult, I took care of the situation," Nakayama explained without batting an eyelash.

Yumiko appeared utterly unimpressed. "You shot it," she stated, not minding the snow that began to collect on her coat and hair. The small ice crystals glittered in the sparse light – and indeed, the pale light of the few lanterns was reflected on the snow-covered ground as well – making everything even more surreal than it was.

Running along palm trees and tall bushes in that pocket dimension had felt more real. Tezuka shook his head. He was tired, confused, exhausted, and desperate – but he couldn't allow his emotions to addle his brain.

Not when this was his very last chance to save Fuji.

"Yes. From what I could discern, the gun was likely to be effective. As you, Fuji-san, are quite aware, that that what is human is best taken care of with human methods," Nakayama's benign smile had a rather cool edge to it.

Tezuka shuddered, and glanced toward the dark ice of the small pond.

They were wasting time, he realized.

And hadn't the last time he had just stood by and watched things play out cost Fuji his life in the end? Hadn't he sworn not to let this happen again?

"Indeed," Yumiko returned, but Tezuka never heard the rest of her answer, as he stepped around the stone.

Mori's body lay in an odd position, the upper part turned slightly sideways. Her features had morphed, no longer resembling the little old lady, but rather the tall, tanned woman Tezuka had encountered in that pocket dimension.

Blood covered the front of her coat, and drenched the snow around her. Her eyes were shut, her expression peaceful – and she looked as harmless, as the real Mori had been when alive. For a split second Tezuka wondered how she had turned out like this –

Then he detected small clouds rising from her lips.

"She's alive," he called, interrupting the strained conversation between Nakayama and Yumiko. Both hurried over, studying the motionless body with equally unfeeling eyes.

"It won't last long," Nakayama finally said, "We might just as well finish it right now."

Yumiko pressed her lips together. "I'm well aware of your reasoning, Nakayama-san, and I'm not inclined to protest. Though I must request you to allow me a private conversation with Tezuka-kun first."

"Normally I wouldn't even dream of refusing such a request," Nakayama immediately replied, "Though knowing what I do, and in light of your brother's unfortunate involvement, I'm quite afraid allowing a private conversation might implicate serious consequences for Kunimitsu. As a friend of the family, I'm afraid I cannot allow that to happen."

Yumiko's glare turned icy. "But as you should be well aware, the procedure to save my brother's life doesn't necessarily pose a risk to Tezuka-kun. Furthermore, I do believe that Tezuka-kun is quite capable of making his own decision."

Tezuka wanted to agree, but Nakayama was faster. "Fuji-san, forgive me for being blunt, but your brother is dead. It is a tragedy indeed, but no earthly method is capable of bringing him back. Please consider this, before risking another life."

For a moment Tezuka's heart stopped.

Why was Nakayama saying those unforgiving words? Didn't he know that … condemning Fuji to death right now would also kill Tezuka? Maybe not directly, maybe not at once, but Tezuka did not know how he could ever continue living his life should Fuji die tonight.

"I'm afraid we won't reach an agreement concerning this matter, Nakayama-san," Yumiko replied evenly, "While it is true that no earthly method can restore my brother's life, he most certainly isn't dead yet. And I don't see why we shouldn't at least try to save him – as the situation stands, Tezuka-kun's life is hardly at risk."

"Your argumentation would sound logical if I didn't know better. Please try to consider the long-term effects of your suggestion, Fuji-san. Using those methods is what produces things like this," he nodded at Mori's still body, "You know, this thing was once a human girl. One with some unusual abilities, just a bit above average,"

He made a pause there, and Tezuka swallowed in chilly anticipation. Yumiko's face, he noticed, was utterly, totally blank.

It seemed they weren't having this conversation for the first time.

"Turned into a demon by using those methods you're suggesting to use right now. She used to be a human girl," he tilted his head, "Not unlike you, Fuji-san."

Oppressive silence froze them all to their places – Tezuka barely dared to breathe. Was Nakayama implying that…? The demon was human, or that Fuji Yumiko was a demon? He couldn't feel his fingers, and the icy air burned in his lungs.

A gust of wind blew a few snowflakes into his face, and he heard Yumiko take a deep breath. Her voice, when she spoke again, was darkly amused – it sent shudders down Tezuka's spine, and dragged dreary memories out of their abyss.

"Oh, that is such a low blow, Nakayama-san. I'm quite disappointed – I had hoped for a more logical argument from you," she shook her head, sending several snowflakes flying.

Tezuka swallowed. Bit his lips. His eyes strayed to the motionless figure on the ground near him. The spread of blood had slowed significantly, but her chest kept rising and falling.

He turned back to Yumiko.

"I'm well aware that you belong to that fraction that believes that the use of all that is considered 'unearthly' is the evil at the core, and over long or short must blacken the user's heart and turn them into something no longer human," she said, almost chuckling, and the hairs on Tezuka's arms were standing, "That might have well been the case with her. However, you should know as well as I do, that there is no proof for this theory."

She took a step into his direction. "And to be frank, you only know the theory. Or did you ever actually experience how it is to be gifted, or to make use of such 'unearthly' powers?"

Tezuka took a deep breath. This conversation was headed into a territory he was unaware of, one he couldn't deal with – one that extended to a scope far beyond the actual situation.

Though trying to figure out the greater background wasn't helping Fuji.

He was nervous, uncertain, anxious. The situation was beyond his understanding, didn't resemble anything he ever had to deal with before, and no textbook, no wise words, no ancient teachings had ever prepared him to face this.

But looking at the red blood spreading around the demon's still body, he knew time was running out.

A part of him longed to take action.

Somewhere hidden deep in his subconscious were the methods to make use of the powers he had been given. The knowledge was there, even if he couldn't rationally access it – but if he just stretched out a hand, moved a finger, he would know what to do.

It was a strange, frightening sensation.

So unlike everything he had experienced before. Control over every movement; from his eyebrows to his toes, had accompanied him through all his life. If he just concentrated, he knew exactly what muscle to move if he wanted to – say – curl one of his toes, and none of the others.

This wasn't like that.

He couldn't logically contemplate the possibilities and boundaries of his new capacities. He might lift his hand to see nothing change; he might lift his hand to see the tree in front of his burst into fire.

Neither Nakayama, nor Yumiko could do that.

And yet they were arguing what he was capable of.

Or were they?

Tezuka blinked. He didn't like the situation a bit – he didn't understand the powers he was using, nor did he have anybody to ask about them. But for once his logical mind agreed with what those foreign instincts suggested.

Take action.

Knowledge would come to him in due time.

Turning away from the conversation, Tezuka stepped toward the pond. The ice glittered menacingly in the darkness; black, and thin – promising to crack immediately under his feet.

It would be more than embarrassing should this backfire.

Tezuka shook his head. Concentrated on blue skies, foreign building, olive trees and Fuji's smile. He closed his eyes, envisioning the scenery of a place as distant as it was unreal.

"Tezuka-kun!" somebody yelled; and, "Stop, Kunimitsu!"

Stepped on the ice, and the world shifted.

* * *

The sky was blue, yet the sun lacked the warmth Tezuka remembered. He hadn't fallen into the pool, but appeared right next to it. The water looked dull, uninviting, and something in the atmosphere seemed to have shifted.

When he glanced around, he found that the plants had begun to wilt.

Probably because the creator of this dimension was dying, a part of his mind whispered, and if she died, the place would crumble.

Tezuka did not question that knowledge. A quick look across the tall hedges revealed that the scenery beyond – those desert-like mountains – had been swallowed by a thick fog.

The dimension was already falling apart.

With a frown Tezuka turned, and began to follow a familiar path, through tall hedges and past slowly dying flowers. Some of those spotless marble tiles now sported cracks; their surfaces dusty and old. He couldn't help but shudder, and start moving faster.

The flowers would make a good reference; that foreign part of his mind suggested, their state of decay was a good indicator of the remaining time. They'd wilt first – the roses would turn grey, then black. Only then they would start losing their petals, and slowly turn to dust.

And once they were gone, the dimension would have disappeared.

With everything and everybody within lost forever.

Tezuka could only pray time would suffice.

He spotted the building; a dull glow still retained by the golden ornaments. The crumbled remains of the wall cluttered his way, yet allowed him to easily access the inside. He took care when he made his way in – a sprained ankle wasn't something he could afford right now, and his eyes needed to get used to the dim light.

Dust covered virtually every surface within. Strewn furniture, books, little knick-knacks he had never noticed – but he didn't allow himself to linger, no matter how tempting the assorted items appeared to his newly gained senses.

Finally he spotted Fuji – an unmoving heap toward the back of the chamber. A sense of unease befell him, and it was with baited breath that Tezuka approached the still figure.

There wasn't much difference between the Fuji he had seen lying lifelessly on a hospital bed, and the one in this dimension. The face was pale, almost white, and even the bright red of the blood surrounding him had faded underneath layers of dust.

Tezuka tilted his head. It wasn't just dust; the blood had clotted – and if he wasn't mistaken, it had done the same on the wound on Fuji's body.

An important detail, the little voice whispered, though the logical part of Tezuka's mind couldn't quite figure out how. Even if the wound would have been completely healed, Fuji was still dead. His friend's chest wasn't moving, and Tezuka knew that he wouldn't find a pulse.

Where to go from here on?

He sank to his knees, reached out and carefully brushed a strand of hair from Fuji's face. The skin under his fingers was soft, but cool, and no muscle moved. This wasn't going to work like it did in the fairy tales; the princess wasn't going to magically wake up at her prince's arrival.

And didn't the prince have to kiss her awake, anyway?

For a split second Tezuka's eyes strayed to Fuji's lips – circumstances made the action no longer appear as strange to him as it might have usually, but a part of him was convinced this method wasn't going to work.

There hadn't been a dragon in this fairy tale, after all.

Desperately, Tezuka let his hand linger on Fuji's cheek, wrecking his brain to find a method. What were those foreign instincts telling him to do, what suggested that voice whispering at the corners of his mind?

The blood on the ground might have clotted, but parts of it were still wet.

What…

Tezuka blinked.

Liquid. Signified portals.

He had arrived in this dimension through water.

Could he…

Was this…

The tingling in his fingers grew stronger. He had seen her do it, once. Hasegawa's blood had covered large parts of the floor of the student council office. There had been the contents of a water bottle added to it, but…

Blood was liquid.

Was this another door?

There was nothing else he could think of; no other desperate measure his exhausted mind could come up with. So Tezuka steeled his nerves, swallowed down the nausea.

And brought his hand down.

* * *

When Tezuka opened his eyes, he found himself on a shore.

The sea was a dull grey, bordering on stormy, mirroring the overcast sky. Even the sand appeared grey, and the scenery stretched as far as he could see. There were no animals, buildings, or even trees.

Just the sea.

What was this place? What weird dimension had he transported himself to? Did this mean he had committed the ultimate screw-up? Had now all been for naught, and he hadn't just lost Fuji's, but his own life as well?

Had he…

"Tezuka!" a familiar voice called out from behind him, "What on earth are you doing here?"

And Tezuka turned around to see Fuji's approaching him.

_tbc_

* * *

_Thank you for reading, and if you have comments or caught a mistake - please share with me!  
_


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine. _  
_

** Reviewers: **Thank you so much for your support! I may not have time to reply to every review, but every single one is a huge inspiration and encouragement. ^^ I hope I will get around to posting the remaining chapters of this particular fic sooner rather than later, but well - at times, time just passes a lot of faster than I want it to.

tl;dr: Thank you! And now, onward!

**Note: **Since the chapter on its own is confusing: Fuji has been killed by Mori-san in her dimension; in actual reality he is between life and death. Tezuka then does something unexpected.

* * *

_Twenty-four_

A soft breeze caressed Tezuka's cheeks, not warm, yet not cold either. The smell of the sea was strong, and the roaring of the waves mixed with the roaring of the blood in his ears. In front of him, the ocean stretched until the horizon, a stormy blue-grey.

He blinked.

"Tezuka?" Fuji's steps slowed, having almost reached him.

Tezuka watched him tilt his head, strands of brown hair swinging softly in the breeze, echoing Fuji's movement. He could feel the rough air against his skin, could feel the sandy underground through the soles of his shoes –

But his mind wasn't coping.

Fuji was reaching out, surprise evident in his eyes. They were bright, even though the sky was dull, and the sea mirrored its dreary color. How could this be, Tezuka's mind asked, how could this come to pass? Hadn't he seen Fuji's body on the ground in the ruins of that foreign building, just moments ago? Hadn't he touched his friend's skin then to find it cold?

Hadn't he watched him die, only to find him barely alive on a hospital bed in another place? Did it make sense for Fuji to be alive in this place, then? Or would Tezuka's arrival inevitable mean that the Fuji here would die, too?

Or…

Fingers touched his cheek, warm and soft.

"What are you doing here, Tezuka?" Fuji was asking, his eyes searching Tezuka's for an answer, "This place… you shouldn't be here."

Nothing made sense. But that touch felt real, and his instincts urged him to trust his feelings. To let go of those reminders of logic he kept clinging to, even he couldn't see where he would fall.

"Fuji," he heard himself say, his voice barely more than a whisper, "You…"

His hand rose on its own accord, covering Fuji's smaller one. The skin under his fingers was warm, alive – everything it hadn't been either in the ruins or in the hospital. Tezuka finally lifted his head and looked into Fuji's eyes. There was worry in that gaze, and concern, and Tezuka felt warmth blossom in his chest.

"How did you get here?" Fuji asked, his hand coming to rest on Tezuka's shoulder, as if to convince himself that Tezuka was real. He seemed barely even aware of the fact, that Tezuka's fingers were touching his own, and Tezuka instinctively tightened his grip.

Fuji only softly shook his head. "You shouldn't be here," he muttered, more to himself than to Tezuka, "Did that … she shouldn't have been able to do anymore harm… or did she?"

"She didn't do anything," Tezuka heard himself say. Maybe the world around them was mad, but at least the connection between Fuji and him wasn't suffering from any kind of a distortion. For once there was no mask covering Fuji's emotions. And while Tezuka was certainly no expressive person by nature, this time he let his emotions show freely.

"Your plan worked," Tezuka softly told Fuji, and was rewarded with a relieved smile. It made his heart ache – Fuji shouldn't be happy to have achieved something at the price of his own life. Tezuka couldn't help the frown that crossed his face. "But, Fuji, was that necessary? Did you know what would happen?"

"It was the only way," Fuji smiled sadly, "I couldn't let her go through with her plan. If she had gotten hold of what she was after, there wouldn't have been any way to stop her."

But what harm would that have done, a part of Tezuka's mind inquired. She might have just taken what she was after and left them alone. Harm might have come to other people, later, but in concern to themselves, the affair would have come to an end.

"Still," Tezuka pressed his lips together, "What if it hadn't worked? What if something had gone wrong and she would have gotten what she was after?"

"At that point, it was impossible," Fuji shook his head, "No matter how powerful, there is little in the world that is more powerful than a spell sealed by death."

Tezuka had to look away. That word tore at wounds that were too deep, too fresh for him to deal with. His eyes fixed on the cloudy horizon, and he replied: "I wish you wouldn't have done it."

And if his voice came out a little choked – this place wasn't real after all.

"What did you do, anyway? It didn't actually stop her from going through with her ritual in the end," Tezuka asked.

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "You mean rationally, or as in, what one might refer to as actually?"

"The latter," Tezuka answered at once.

"What a surprising development," Fuji noted with a slightly amused smile, before his expression grew solemn once again, "As you know, in terms of power, there was no chance I could do anything against her. Furthermore, I had only a very general idea of what she intended to do – I knew it would involve a sort of transfer, probably a rather rare and complicated one."

Tezuka nodded attentively. It made sense, no matter how astonished Fuji was at his behavior. Probably, a very small voice in the back of his mind supplied, because a mere few hours ago he wouldn't have taken an explanation composed of so many unnatural factors in stride.

Fuji swallowed and continued, "As I did not know what specific measure to take, I made sure that the process would be reversed. It's not a big thing to do – and that she killed me only served to fortify it to a degree she couldn't find a counter."

A gust of wind blew past them, and for a moment they both turned to look out to the sea. The colors might be dull, the weather uninviting, yet Tezuka found the confusion that had enveloped his mind fading with every passing moment. The desperation, the pain, the horror, it all disappeared, little by little; and his heart finally started to calm down.

He'd heard people speak about how the sea had that effect on people.

How…

"What happened afterwards?" Fuji's question cut through the haze, "After I… I mean, you aren't supposed to be here. What happened?"

"It went as you had wanted it to happen, I think," Tezuka replied, his gaze still fixed on the dark water. Was it just his impression, or were the waves starting to come closer to their feet?

"She went through with the ceremony, and broke it off once she realized something went wrong. It… didn't kill her in the end, though apparently it left her quite weak. Anyhow, I managed to get away in the mean time," Tezuka found his own voice sounded oddly distant, but his mind was busy turning things over.

"Does it mean she didn't intend to kill me?" The question took him by surprise, and Fuji's eyes widened abruptly at hearing Tezuka sound so undecided, "If the process was reversed, either she didn't mean to kill me, or she found a way to stop the process."

Fuji took a deep breath. "Yes, it's one of those two options. But I'm afraid, you would have to ask her yourself to find the true answer."

Tezuka nodded, and silence descended once again.

There were no seagulls here, Tezuka noticed. Apart from the two of them, no living being could be found. No fish, no shells, no birds – only the beach and the water, both stretching endlessly. It barely looked different from the world he knew, yet the atmosphere could hardly be compared.

"Tezuka," there was a small sigh from Fuji, "I'm sorry for what happened. I wish there had been another way, but to be honest, I don't think there was. I sincerely hope that whatever I forced on you won't affect you in the future."

The odd, solemn tone to Fuji's voice made Tezuka turn away from the waves, and their slow progress toward their feet. A shiver ran down his spine.

"I really wish things had turned out differently," Fuji added with a mournful smile, "But you need to go. Whatever brought you here, you shouldn't stay too long. I'm thankful we had this chance to talk, though I fear something might happen to you should you linger any longer."

The first wave almost made it to their shoes, and Tezuka instinctively took a step backward. Fuji didn't move; he merely kept gazing at Tezuka.

Water.

Portal.

Time was running out.

In a split second, several things clicked in Tezuka's mind. The calming, mind-numbing atmosphere of the place, the water that kept drawing closer, the lack of anything living –

Ice-cold awe spread through his body. If he read this correctly – and it was a large if – this was beyond merely supernatural even, this was downright scary. Could this be what he had heard people refer to as the in-between? Had he really stepped into a place, he still didn't believe in?

Goosebumps rose on his arms, but Tezuka energetically shoved the thought aside. Now that the tranquility had vanished, his heart started pounding again. He recalled the urgency, the wilting flowers, the fading scenery – the way from the ruins to the pool wasn't too short, either.

He reached out, grasped Fuji by the arm and pulled him away from the water.

"Yes, we need to go," he announced, and with a small pang of satisfaction recognized the surprise in Fuji's eyes.

"You need to go, Tezuka. I… can't," Fuji returned.

"Who says that you can't?" Tezuka asked in an atypical burst of passion. His fingertips had begun to tingle again. Power that wanted to be used; and a part of his mind that held onto the belief that he could make things right.

Time was short, though.

"If I can, so can you," Tezuka added, and could almost watch Fuji thinking.

Dimly he was aware that he wasn't acting like himself. He ought to be calmer, less emotional and more logical about everything. Maybe it was this strange power corrupting his mind. Or maybe it was the situation that twisted him into this.

"I can't go with you," Fuji said, "I'm already…"

"You aren't," Tezuka replied, "Not yet. It was a close call, and there isn't much time. You've got to trust me."

Fuji's eyes widened and Tezuka could see the faintest glimmer of hope in them. It reaffirmed his decision – if Fuji wished to escape this place, he'd find a way.

"But that's impossible," Fuji shook his head, "She … made sure. Even if we go back, that wound would just cause everything to happen again."

Tezuka nodded. The waves seemed louder, and the water had almost reached their feet once again. Was it just him, or had the wind picked up as well?

And was the sky getting darker?

"We might have to run for it," he said, "As a part of her powers has been transferred onto me, I suppose I can do something about that wound. However, when I came here, that other place was already collapsing, so I don't know, how much time we have left."

Fuji frowned. "You passed the other place to come here? Tezuka, just how much…"

A loud roar interrupted him, and the ground seemed to shake. Both flinched and turned in time to see a large wave crashing onto the beach nearby, droplets of water landing on the sand only centimeters from their feet.

"We need to go," Tezuka announced and grasped Fuji firmly by the shoulders. He paid no attention to the shudder running through his friend's body, nor to the silent protest on Fuji's white face – he had to get them away, now.

The air was ripe with tension.

A tremor ran through the ground, behind him he could hear the sea roaring. The second wave was already building up, once it made landfall, it would be upon them.

Time was up.

Tezuka whirled them around, away from the stormy ocean, and came face to face with a white wall of nothing. Thick fog obscured the landscape, but no magic doors or ways out were in sight.

Until now he had used liquid to transport himself to another place.

The body of water behind them was entirely out of question.

So what…

Fog.

A grim smile crossed Tezuka's face, as his mind made the connection. Fog consisted largely of water – and while he couldn't be certain, it would probably be enough to get them out of this place. In a dark corner of his mind, he was surprised at the rush of satisfaction he felt at how well logic, knowledge and that foreign power worked together.

If he made use those capacities, nothing would stand against him.

Determinedly, he reached deep inside himself, and willed a portal to open.

A wave of dizziness attacked him, and Tezuka fell to his knees, clenching his eyes shut. Beside him he heard a choked gasp, felt wetness soaking through his trousers, and cold marble under his hands. The air was slightly warmer than before, yet it carried a heavy scent of decay.

It had worked, he realized, and forced his eyes to open. Dust made them tear, yet he noticed Fuji twitch beside him, trying desperately to breathe.

The wound.

Tezuka pressed his lips together, willed the dizziness and the pounding in his head to recede, and looked at his friend. Fuji was half-curled into himself on the ground, his eyes clenched shut, and a hand pressed over the wound. Fresh blood was leaking from it, and from the way his breath hitched, there wasn't much time.

Could he even heal, or should they just run for it? The ruins were still there, but the blue sky was gone, replaced by white nothingness. Outside, Tezuka could make out the black remains of bushes, yet large parts of the shrubbery had already vanished. He could spy the hilltop in the distance – though it was far, and the whiteness was closing in fast.

"Te…" Fuji gasped out, and Tezuka realized that Fuji was clinging onto consciousness. His face had gone stark white, if from blood loss or pain, Tezuka couldn't tell, but seeing fresh red trickle down Fuji's fingers made his stomach twist.

Fuji wasn't going to last long enough for them to reach the hilltop.

He could hear it in each rasping breath – the damage that had been done by the demon's mysterious blade was too severe. But whatever power had created that blade had been passed on to him. So while he didn't exactly heal the wound, he could try to undo what made it fatal.

That thought in mind, he put his hand over Fuji's on top of the wound, and concentrated. On what exactly, he didn't know – he just willed the wound to heal with all of his heart, and reached for that power. His fingers tingled in response; there was a small noise from Fuji –

And when he glanced up again, Fuji was watching him carefully through half-lidded eyes, and his breathing, Tezuka gratefully noted, had evened out. His own heart was racing, and he could feel sweat forming on his back. Using those powers – no matter how easily they came to him – took a lot out of his body.

But he couldn't take a break now.

The air around them was growing colder, and already, first tendrils of the white fog were beginning to creep into the ruins around them. Wearily, Tezuka took a deep breath and stood. Next to him, Fuji attempted to follow his example.

Yet Fuji barely managed to sit up, before he slumped down again, panting heavily. His face remained pale, sweat-soaked, and Tezuka felt worry swell up in his chest. Would what he had done suffice? The wound wasn't bleeding anymore, but the damage might have remained…

… he should hurry.

"I'll carry you," he told Fuji, and crouched down. Fuji blinked at him, surprised, but Tezuka shook his head. "We need to hurry. There isn't much time left, and you can't walk all the way up the hill in your condition."

"I see," Fuji gasped, and reached for Tezuka shoulder, trying to pull himself onto his back. Tezuka watched as white, shivering fingers clenched into the fabric of his clothes, and his heart ached. Fuji failed to get a firm grasp – the injury had left him too weak, much to his own consternation.

"Sorry," Fuji muttered, but Tezuka shook his head. The white fog was almost upon them, so he pressed his lips together and lifted Fuji up – one arm under his knees, one around his shoulders, hoping against hope he wasn't worsening the injury.

The painful twist of Fuji's eyebrows made him swallow.

Cold air caressed his cheeks. Tezuka glanced around, only to see a wall of white – and stumbled forward abruptly, his heart stopping for a second. How had the fog closed in so fast? Had he wasted that much time?

Barely anything of the blackened bushes remained, only dust covering the faded and cracked tiles. Already parts of the path had started to disappear, and Tezuka broke into a run – Fuji's weight was starting to pull on his arms, but he barely noticed.

The world around was crumbling soundlessly, at a breath-taking speed. He'd have stopped to stare and marvel; if the icy touch of death hadn't been following hot at his heels. Before his eyes, blackened leaves withered away, flowers turned into dust. The once shiny marble tiles cracked and crumbled under his feet – yet no sound, other than his own labored breathing filled the air.

Fuji's head lolled against his chest, his eyes closed once again. Tezuka could feel each shuddering breath Fuji took, and instinctively cradled him tighter. He wasn't going to lose him a second time.

Not after everything that had happened.

Not when only one staircase was separating them from the liquid gate to their home.

He was soaked in sweat when he stumbled up the last few steps, and the white fog was there, too. Half of the water had already disappeared –

Would the remaining half be enough?

Was this gate still stable?

His head was spinning, his arms trembling. Exhaustion, fatigue – his body and mind protested. Too much had been forced onto him in too little time, too many horrors and shocks, and he wasn't certain, there was enough power left within him for this last act.

But feeling Fuji's body rest against his chest, warm and alive, made him determined to give this his all.

Either they'd both be getting out of here alive.

Or he'd die trying.

_tbc_

* * *

_Thank you for reading, and if you'd like to share your thoughts, comments or suggestions, please feel free to leave a review. ^_^  
_


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer:** PoT is not mine.

**Reviews: **Thank you very much indeed for taking time to read and review my fic. Reviews always make me happy - suggestions always help with getting better, and the reviews in general tell me that people like (or are interested in) the strange ideas my brain comes up with. Which is awesome, because most people I know consider writing/reading fanfic no socially acceptable pasttime. ^^; Thus, thank you! And a super-thank you to NighttimeFirefly, Lazy Gaga, Henzie-sama, Alpha Centarus, onlyone42, turtlelover4015, LightAngleHiroko, delicious-thrill, lemon-and-chai and jerui.

**And now, please enjoy! ^_^ **

* * *

**Twenty-five**

Tezuka's eyes snapped open, a split second before he crashed onto the frozen surface of the pond. The ice cracked underneath him, echoing through the silent backyard like an ominous explosion, pain raced down his spine and in the distance Tezuka thought he heard somebody shout his name.

Then he found himself in the deathly embrace of sub-zero water, and all air fled his lungs. Through wide-opened eyes he could see the blurry outlines of a tall building and flickering lights against a dark, dark sky, but it was bizarre, straight out of a nightmare.

Where was Fuji?

A subconscious part of his body recalled what to do – survival instincts kicked in, even if all his nerve endings were on fire; he propelled himself back to the surface with his remaining strength. His knees hit the rocky ground of the pond, and he found the water shallower than he had expected.

But when he – gasping desperately to get air into his burning lungs – tried to push himself up, his legs were too weak. The darkness blurring his vision had nothing to do with the water dripping down from his hair. And even though his heart was racing, he felt faint.

There was water in his eyes, and all of sudden hands were roughly pulling at his soaked clothes. He tried to breathe, but his lungs constricted, and all that came from his throat was a painful, whacking cough. Weakly he tried to swat away the hands, wanted them to leave him alone to recover – his ears were ringing and his head hurt beyond anything he had ever experienced before. He couldn't think, couldn't even remember where he was or what was happening.

Something about Fuji, though.

When he tried to open his eyes the next time, he was out of the water and had to blink - his eyes wouldn't focus; all he could make out were blurry, blinking lights and rapidly moving silhouettes. He wanted the movement to stop; stop before it made him sicker than he already was, yet his throat wouldn't work and he barely had any feeling left in his body. A hurricane raged through his mind - concentration was as impossible as was letting it all fade to black.

Only after his eyelids had closed once again without his conscious permission, the cacophony of sounds started to become distinctive.

"Tezuka-kun!" he could hear a familiar voice calling out, "Tezuka-kun! Hang on!"

At that point, his memory kicked in.

He had been at a hospital - because of his grandfather, because of Fuji, because at some point his entire life had turned into a nightmare – with Fuji's sister and Nakayama. They had been talking - quarrelling – before he had done something - inane. But he hadn't had much of a choice, had he? Or, rather...

A sharp pain assailed Tezuka's head, and he flinched, turning to his side with a soft groan. Something soft, yet cold caressed his cheeks, and he realized he was lying next to the pond in the snow, and his wet clothes had started to freeze and turn stiff. Darkness had fallen a long time ago, and all those blinking, golden lights were actually the windows of the hospital.

"Tezuka-kun?"

All he could do was helplessly gasp for air in reply. His lungs were on fire, the pain blurred together with all the other intolerable aches assaulting his body. He wanted to curl up, but moving was out of question, so he closed his eyes, blocking out the vision of Yumiko's worried face hovering over him, and Nakayama looking on with a concerned expression from the background.

"Nakayama-san," a rustle of cloth betrayed Yumiko turning around, her cold hands hovering next to his shoulder. He could see small droplets of water clinging to them, "Please get a doctor or a nurse! We need to get Tezuka-kun inside as soon as possible."

Tezuka saw Nakayama's lips moving – was that a moment of hesitation there? - but then the old man turned on his heel and hurried away. It was surprising that nobody had come yet, considering the ruckus they had made earlier - or had they? He wasn't certain just how much noise his sudden departure had caused in the end.

And how long had his bizarre venture to that other place taken, anyhow? It felt like ages, though his mind was in pieces, his logic was shattered beyond repair and he there was too much he couldn't make sense of.

It wouldn't matter if…

As the footsteps faded into distance, and noises faded but for his own harsh breathing, Tezuka became aware of Yumiko observing him closely. For a second he saw a darkness in her eyes that sent a shudder down his spine.

Then her expression softened. "Tezuka-kun?" she asked, and this time Tezuka managed a weak nod. His thundering heart began to quieten as he managed to draw one shuddering breath. And while fatigue laid claim onto his body, two questions started to form in his mind.

Was it over? Were Fuji and his grandfather alright?

He had saved Fuji, hadn't he? At least that he had accomplished, though he found no indication of success on Yumiko's face. Darkness preyed on the corners of his vision again, yet the adrenalin racing through his chilled body wouldn't rest before he had affirmed this.

"Are you injured?" Yumiko bit her lip and shook a strand of hair out of her face. Tezuka could see ice clinging to it – probably where water had splashed her.

Slowly, but certainly, he was beginning to feel the cold.

Shock, terror and excitement had dulled his perception, but as his vision had cleared, sensations became palpable once more. And he could tell all too well just how cold the night air was, lying in the snow in soaked clothes.

"There'll be somebody to take you inside in a moment," Yumiko told him. There was something else she wanted to know, he could tell, "Don't worry. Everything will be alright."

Fear coiled in Tezuka's stomach. He had been successful, hadn't he?

Why was there still so much grieve in Yumiko's eyes?

The smile on her face seemed strained, and Tezuka searched the corners and nooks of his mind for a way to voice one simple question. His voice wouldn't cooperate – he knew that without having to try.

Maybe if…

He caught sight of a movement from the corner of his eye.

His heart jumped, but Yumiko never heard the light rustling of fabric behind her. Tezuka's face must have betrayed his shock, for she leaned in abruptly, asking him what was wrong, while a silhouette distatched itself from the shadow of the large decorative boulder next to the pond.

Tezuka recognized the long, flowing dark hair and light coat instantly.

Horror froze him to the spot, while the figure behind Yumiko raised one arm high above her head. Cold anger glittered in the creature's eyes, before it brought down the rock it was wielding right on Yumiko's head.

Without a sound Yumiko collapsed into the snow, right next to him. Tezuka could only stare, terrified, as something red began to trickle from Yumiko's forehead into the snow. He heard the figure take a deep breath, and finally managed to turn around.

His heart started hammering – he moved his lips to say something, call somebody, do anything, but nothing but a faint wheezing noise emerged from his throat.

Close-up, Tezuka could see that she had gotten stuck somewhere between pretending to be Mori-san, and the figure he had encountered in the other place. Her hair was dark and curly, her skin sun-kissed, but the eyes were Mori's. So were the clothes – sporting a dark red stain just above her chest.

Hadn't Nakayama shot her earlier?

How had that reversed?

Or had it, he wondered, watching her straighten up with gritted teeth, while his brain screamed at him to run. When she lifted her head to glare at him, his body caught up, and he managed to push himself onto his knees, before collapsing back into the snow.

Sweat was covering his forehead all of a sudden; his chest was heaving and all his nerve endings were on fire. He was nauseous, dizzy, cold and feverish at the same time. White spots exploded in front of his eyes, and he had to put both hands onto the ground to steady himself.

"Finally," she hissed, and took one unsteady step closer to Tezuka, making him glance up with wide-eyes. He could only lean back, while she raised the blood-smeared rock high above her head.

Whatever strength was left in his body…

He couldn't quite dodge it. Neither did he have the strength to block what usually would have been an unimpressive attempt – all he could do was raise his arms and deflect the blow. The force left his ears ringing, and bloody scratches down his forearm.

Mori stumbled back, enraged.

"I should have killed you a long time ago," she whispered venomously, while trying to find her balance, "You and your annoying friend."

She regained her footing, lifted her head and a dark grin spread across her face. "Well, I guess better late than never."

All Tezuka could do was rob backwards on his behind, trying to put as much distance between himself and Mori as possible. His heart was thundering, his head throbbing and vision fading in and out. Now wasn't a time to allow himself any weakness – yet there was no energy left in his body anymore. He was beyond drained.

And then his back hit rock.

The same boulder she had been sitting on when Nakayama had shot her.

Hadn't that shot killed her? Couldn't he just show up and do it again? Wasn't he taking far too long to fetch help anyway?

Nothing made sense, and already she was upon him, the stone raised high against the black sky once more, the silence around them belying the chaos ripping through his mind. His breath hitched – she brought the stone down, and there was little he could do

He never remembered closing his eyes.

But he heard a gasp, and something heavy hit the ground with a thud, and realized that his head hadn't been smashed by a piece of rock.

Instead Mori and an all-too-familiar figure were rolling on the uneven ground. Tezuka's breath caught in his throat, and his eyes shot open. He'd never noticed Fuji sneak up on them.

He was grappling with Mori, had one hand firmly fisted in her hair, the other one tried to grasp her throat, while simultaneously fighting off her attacks. Mori had dropped her weapon during the surprise assault, but it didn't take her long to roll them over.

Fuji gritted his teeth and pushed back. Mori wouldn't have any of it, and tightened her grip around Fuji's throat. She barely dodged the attack aimed at her eyes – Fuji's nails left bloody scratches down her left cheek instead.

They were grappling on the ground, rolling closer to the pond with each punch. Tezuka's heart stopped. Whatever elation he had felt at seeing Fuji alive and unharmed vanished instantly.

Mori was struggling – he saw Fuji's arm reach up and grasp her hair tightly, attempting to pull her down with him, yet she refused to budge. Rage distorted her features, determination – now, that she had her hands wrapped around Fuji's throat she wasn't going to let go.

Something in Tezuka screeched at him to move, but he could only weakly claw at the ground, as control over his body vanished. Sensations faded in and out, darkness blurred the edges of his vision, his lips weren't moving. He was a prisoner in his own body.

But he refused to give in.

Tezuka bit down on his lip, until he could taste blood, and pushed his aching body forward – even if he had to crawl, he wouldn't stand by. Already, the taste of copper brought warmth back into his numb limbs.

Something was tickling his fingers. Circulation seemed to be returning –

It felt different.

Fuji's grip slackened – he could tell, even in the darkness – until his hand fell away completely.

Desperately he reached into himself, focusing on the unfamiliar, weak tickle of power – when Fuji abruptly turned to stare at a point behind Tezuka, wide-eyed.

"No!" he mouthed, stretching out his hand the same second that a shot tore through the night.

Mori's body stiffened – and then the beige back of her coat showed a small spot of bright red. Something tickled Tezuka's senses, an unfamiliar, disconcerting sensation, yet he could only stare at Nakayama in shock.

Until a splash behind him made him turn around so fast, he almost made himself sick. Mori had keeled over – her coat started to look deformed – and pulled Fuji into the water with her. Tezuka's heartn stopped as he watched the two of them go under in horrified mesmerization.

For a moment, silence was total.

Tezuka couldn't even begin to understand, what had just happened in front of his eyes. His mind was screaming, caught in a whirlwind that scattered every thought into a thousand pieces.

Then snow crunched under Nakayama's boots, and the water splashed as Fuji pushed himself upright, putting Tezuka's worst fears to a rest. His body was tingling, with adrenalin and something he didn't understand.

But Mori ...

Was she truly gone now?

Gone for good?

There was a beige coat floating on the dark water, next to where Fuji was making his way out of the pond. Tezuka finally found a chance to look as his friend – and found himself shocked at how pale he was.

Fuji looked like death warmed over, yet there was a grim kind of relief visible on his face that hid all other emotions. He was moving like somebody three times his age as he climbed out of the water – and the temperatures seemed to not even faze him.

"Tezuka-kun!" Nakayama exclaimed once he was closer, "Are you alright?"

Tezuka barely had time to turn around and nod, before Nakayama had caught up to them and finally caught sight of the entire scene.

"What on earth happened?" with a worried frown he cast a glance into Fuji's direction, before kneeling down next to Yumiko. "What happened to Fuji-san? And when did you get here, Fuji-kun?"

There seemed to be something else on his lips as well, but he took one good look at them and changed the line of questioning with a small shake of his head.

"Never mind. A nurse will be out soon. They had some uproar inside, but they told me they would send somebody outside at once," Nakayama looked around once again, and as if he had convinced himself that the danger had passed, he let the gun disappear underneath his coat.

Tezuka felt his shuddering heart beginning to beat a little slower.

"Tezuka," a new voice cut in, "Are you okay?"

He turned to find Fuji's eyes on him, something dark that mirrored Yumiko's expression from earlier in them. Breathlessly, he nodded. His fingers were shaking, and his vision started fading in and out.

"That's good," Fuji muttered and a familiar, exhausted smile appeared on his face as he slumped into the snow next to him, "That was quite a number. Really, I can't believe you did this. I…"

He didn't hear what Fuji said next. All was swallowed by a loud buzzing.

And then the world finally faded to black.

_tbc_

* * *

_And from now on, Tezuka shall attempt to make sense of current events. ^_~ And if you have a comment to share, or found a mistake, please feel free to share those with me!  
_


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: **PoT is not mine.

**AN: **Thank you for reading up to this point. Also, a very big thank you to everybody who has reviewed. While I generally write fanfic in order to get what is in my head out of it, reviews do inspire me to do so more often, clue me in onto what can be improved and make me feel a little less alone in the world by showing that there are other people who enjoy reading/writing fanfiction. And reading the odd stuff my head comes up with in particular.

So thank you for making me feel a little less weird.

* * *

Twenty-six

An unfamiliar white ceiling greeted Fuji's eyes upon waking. The light was dim, and somewhere in the back of his throbbing head he felt rather grateful for it. He was warm, yet the breeze caressing his face was cool, carrying a hint of frost.

Disorientation and exhaustion were tempting him to close his eyes once more. Wherever he was, it was warm and comfortable – falling asleep would be easy. But was this place…

… safe?

Abruptly Fuji's eyes shot wide open, he gasped involuntarily as the memories assaulted him. Tezuka's insane stint, the crumbling dimension, grappling with Mori at the edge of the pond, Nakayama's shot - with a breathless sigh he let his head sink back into his pillow. Those memories – reviewing them now, in a room where nothing seemed out of the ordinary – appeared unreal, grotesque even. A small part of his mind couldn't help wondering, if maybe he hadn't imagined it all.

But his throat was aching. The bruises on his body had not been brought on by mere imagination. And he could still feel the burn of far-too-cold water on his skin.

Pulling himself out of his contemplations, Fuji glanced around the room. It appeared to be a fairly standard hospital room, with the possible exception of him not having to share the room with another patient. Instead, there was a table with two chairs on the other side of the room, right underneath a window. From what he could see, the sky was once more covered by grey clouds, and the branches of a nearby tree were sagging under the weight of accumulated snow and ice.

This winter probably qualified for the worst one he had ever lived through – in more way than one, Fuji thought and snorted. There wasn't much to keep his attention on in the room, as he felt disinclined to switch on the television. There were too many questions bothering him, too much unrest in his mind lose himself in some distraction. And judging from the light it ought to be early afternoon, so chances to find somebody willing to talk to him were fair.

Some turning of his head found a buzzer – stretching his arm to reach for it however sent an abrupt spike of pain through his body. He had to hold his breath for half a minute, just to wait for the agony to pass – and even then, stars kept exploding in front of his eyes.

While he might not have suffered any outward injuries, apart from light bruises, his body hadn't taken his stunt in the pocket dimension lightly. He felt as if he had been run over by a truck – several times, for good measure.

Thankfully, the pain had mostly faded by the time a nurse arrived.

"It's good to see you awake," she said with a jovial smile, "How are you feeling?"

While waiting for Fuji to reply, she took a step forward, and took a close look at the drip connected to Fuji's arm.

"Okay," replied Fuji, and the nurse immediately continued with her questions. "Are you in any pain? We could give you something, if you're nauseous or dizzy. But if you aren't, that's surprisingly good."

"I'm fine," Fuji muttered. He probably wasn't supposed to move much, so the spike of pain earlier was his own fault after all. His body just needed a little time to remember how to feel awake. Even his voice sounded a little numb to his own ears.

"Is there anything else you need?" the nurse asked, "Otherwise I will inform your sister, as well as Yamaguchi-sensei. He's the doctor in charge of your treatment, and he will want to run a few tests to see how you're doing."

Fuji blinked, and stopped himself before just nodding obediently. "Please do inform them, however, if it is possible, I would like to know if there was another patient… here by the name of Tezuka Kunimitsu?"

The nurse tilted her head. "Well, while I can't tell you any details, I understand that you want to know – I suppose you are friends, aren't you?"

Fuji nodded eagerly.

"Tezuka-kun is alright," the nurse said with a rather reassuring smile, "He was quite concerned about you, though."

Fuji let go of a breath he didn't know he had been holding. At least physically they seemed to have escaped with a scare and some bruises. This knowledge however, did little to calm the anxious voices in the back of his mind. There were too many gaping holes in his memory, too many things he wasn't certain of.

The entire episode in that other realm had taken an unexpected toll on his body. Though, if he was honest with himself…

When he let himself fall into that water…

Fuji shook his head, chasing away the thought. For the moment, there were far more pressing concerns to be addressed.

"If that is all, I'll go and inform your sister now," the nurse announced, and with one last glance at Fuji, she was on her way.

* * *

It didn't take long for Yumiko to show up.

Fuji had managed to sit up in the meantime, drink a glass of water and attempt to make sense of the scattered puzzle pieces in his mind. His sister's expression was somewhere between relief and exasperation, but even though her steps when she approached his bedside were firm, her skin was paler than usual and there were shadows underneath her eyes.

There was a white bandage wrapped around her head, but it did not appear to bother her much. Her eyes were sharp as always when she scrutinized him, before breaking into a small smile.

"Really," she said, shaking her head, "You are quite something, Syusuke."

Ignoring Fuji's curios tilt of the head, she proceeded to pull one of the chairs from the table over to his bed, and sat down.

"Do you have any idea what kind of an uproar the two of you caused? I don't even want to imagine what to be done for Hasegawa's murder not to be all over the news today. And that's not to say anything of a certain medical miracle right here," she shook her head and took a deep breath, "But that aside, how are you feeling?"

Fuji blinked, feeling much like a deer caught in the headlight. He hadn't given any thought to the ramifications yesterday's – was it really just yesterday? It certainly felt like it had been much longer ago – events would have. Despair had clouded his vision; fear for Tezuka's life…

And he hadn't expected to live to see today, had he?

Fuji wasn't quite sure how to address this question, so he simply answered the last question his sister had asked. "I'm okay," and after a minute, he added, "How is your injury? I only saw what happened from a distance…"

"Yes, though your stunt was well-timed, indeed. The poor doctors here still marvel at how a kid they had thought dead managed to abruptly sit up and sprint away. Your speed, according to hearsay, has left quite an impression with a few people here," Yumiko took another deep breath, and this time her shoulders relaxed a little.

Fuji bit his lip. Yumiko was fairly bristling with energy – something she tended to do when things didn't quite go her way. It was unusual to see her display this kind of behavior now, but he preferred it vastly over the motherly concern that would be the alternative.

He wasn't certain he felt ready to confront those memories head-on. For now, taking refuge in sharp humor seemed like a better choice. And it wasn't as if there wasn't a true core to Yumiko's words.

When he had opened his eyes after Tezuka had somehow whisked him away from the pocket dimension, he had paid little thought to his environment. Dimly he recalled a white room and a lot of machines – yet the only thing on his mind had been Tezuka.

And the insane feat his friend had accomplished.

The fact alone that it had worked had already implied something had gone gravely wrong somewhere. He should have been dead – that Tezuka had been able to save him could not mean anything good.

His instincts, that time, had not failed him. The demon – or human, because when Fuji had tackled her to the ground, her skin had been warm, and she had been breathing – had been alive, and trying its best to murder Tezuka.

How he had known where to go was one question, Fuji concurred, he probably would never be able to answer. Maybe when Tezuka had saved his life some sort of supernatural connection between the two of them had been established – one that managed to guide Fuji's actions even when his brain was barely functioning.

He recalled Nakayama's abrupt entry on the scene, Mori dragging him into the water, and Tezuka collapsing in the snow…

"I'm fine, though," Yumiko's voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up to see she had leaned back in the chair, "It wasn't a big injury, anyway. And from what I heard, Tezuka-kun is mostly fine, too. According to the doctors he collapsed from exhaustion – finals are just around the corner and everything, you know – he'll need to stay until tomorrow, but after that he is free to go. Tezuka Kunikazu-san was discharged earlier this morning. According to his medical file he had a heart attack, though from what I could gather, he decidedly disagrees with that."

Fuji tilted his head, and Yumiko continued. "Of course he didn't have a heart attack. That man is probably healthier at his age than I am. Though, as you can see, somebody made sure to have things remain inconspicuous."

Yumiko shook her head. Fuji swallowed. He imagined beginning to see the point of Yumiko's exasperation – while the fact that somebody was covering up this affair in itself wasn't a bad development for them, the fact that somebody else was in charge of this left Fuji feeling rather uncomfortable.

"As for you, I don't think they have agreed on a cover story yet. When I last spoke to your Yamaguchi-sensei last night, he was fairly outraged; but then again, the dead don't suddenly stand up and run past you every night, either."

"Well, I suppose they'll find some kind of an explanation, though," Fuji commented, and silence descended for a couple of moments. Yumiko got herself a glass of water, and after taking a sip turned much calmer eyes on her younger brother.

"I can't quite…" she broke off, shaking her head once again and then turning to study the bed sheet, "Do you realize what you made me do? You died out there, and I had helped you with it – what on earth do you think I could have told mother and father? I know, it all ended well enough, but still… don't ever pull a stunt like that again."

Fuji's throat suddenly felt tight. He barely managed to nod – he could not trust his voice to come out right.

"I mean, I can understand why you did it," she continued, "Probably I would have even done the same, had I been in your situation. However, please don't ever ask something like this of me again. I don't think I could do it a second time."

The silence, this time, felt heavy. Eventually, Fuji cleared his throat.

"There is one thing I have been wondering about, "he admitted, and Yumiko glanced up from her study of the hospital issue bed sheets, "The demon… or whatever she was. What happened to her? She sort of vanished when she fell into the water, so… is it over?"

A bitter smile crossed Yumiko's face. "Chances are fairly good that it really is over. Earlier this morning they discovered human bones on the ground of that lake – they aren't sure how old those are yet, but first estimates point toward 500 years or so."

"Human bones?" Fuji asked, and blinked. "While I think I understand most of what has happened now, I think I'm still a bit confused about this particular part… so she was human after all?"

"Didn't you mention she acted unusually human for being a demon or anything else otherworldly?" Yumiko asked in return, "She was human. A long, long time ago. According to Nakayama-san she was quite a well-educated lady – and gifted, on top of it."

"But her powers weren't human," Fuji protested, "And she claimed she wanted to have Tezuka's humanity. That doesn't make sense if she had been a human being. "

Yumiko sighed. "It's a bit of a sad story, really. Apparently she was one of the many wives of a sheik or some kind of person like that, and as nobody paid her much attention, she turned to studying the supernatural and honing her gift. I haven't gotten the details yet, but she might have been involved with her husband's bloody demise, as well as the end of his state. Anyway, over the centuries she amassed more and more power – and shed her humanity in exchange."

Fuji swallowed. Remembered the coldly glittering eyes she had turned onto him, and those caustic, careless words she had tossed at Tezuka and him more than once. Maybe, from a humanistic point of view, her behavior might make sense – yet what he and Tezuka had encountered had far outgrown what could be accommodated by humanism.

"When you encountered her, nothing of her humanity remained. She could still act like a human being, but her core had been changed into something else," Yumiko made a pause and bit her lip, "Now, you know, there are certain kinds of abilities that are only accessible to certain types of beings. I suspect she had noticed that, and what we witnessed was her attempt to, at least, restore her access to what humans are capable of exercising."

Fuji watched Yumiko turn her head to stare out of the window. He pressed his lips together. "So basically she was a human on a quest for power."

Yumiko caught his eye and gave him a cynical smile. "Probably. Regarding somebody who spent centuries on amassing power, that is the most logical conclusion."

There was a certain, sinking feeling in his stomach. "However?"

"Well, if you were an extremely powerful demon – how appealing would retrieving your human core be?" Yumiko shrugged her shoulders. "On one hand, certainly, the access to even more power is an argument that can't be overlooked. But I'm not certain if that's really all that there is to it. After all, I've never heard of a demon that wanted to be able to be human."

"It's more something a human would do," Fuji concluded. He recalled the pocket dimension – the sun high in an endless blue sky, sparkling blue water and colorful flowers; marble tiles and ancient palaces, the view across rooftops toward mountains in a distance – would a demon create a pocket dimension like this?

Fuji had never been to any other kind of pocket dimension, or even read about it, but the one he had seen seemed atypical. And yet… how could the creator of a place like that be capable of such cruelty as she had shown when eliminating Hasegawa?

"That's what it looks like," Yumiko sighed, "Though anyway, this kind of speculation isn't going to lead us anywhere."

"So she's dead now?" Fuji asked, and reached for the glass of water on his bedside table. Even though his muscles protested against the movement, the pain didn't even compare to the way he had felt after first waking up earlier that day.

"It appears so. A fragment of her spirit might have survived – depending on how complete or incomplete the switch between her and Tezuka-kun was." Yumiko frowned, and in.

A shudder ran down Fuji's spine. He hadn't yet had time to think about the consequences of his desperate actions. If he had caused a complete exchange of Tezuka's humanity for the demon's powers…

Yumiko was watching him closely.

"I…" Fuji bit his lip, struggling to find the right words, "The nurse told me Tezuka was alright, earlier. Is that…?"

Yumiko's face abruptly went blank. "I only saw him shortly, earlier, so I suggest you go and see him for yourself later."

Fuji swallowed.

* * *

The short interview with Yamaguchi left Fuji feeling out of sorts. While the man certainly maintained his professionalism, he obviously wasn't in the best of moods. He ran several checks, asked routine questions, and in the end announced with a frown:

"It seems that there has been a misunderstanding last night. While it is rare for several professional practitioners to unequivocally declare a person for dead and be wrong about it, there are always exceptions to the rule."

Fuji swallowed, but nodded obediently. He understood the frustration this man had to be feeling about being pressured into silence on this highly unusual affair – though from his point of view, the less attention paid to the events within the last days, the better.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder who exactly was pulling the strings. His sister had contacts – but those probably would not be capable of hushing up a murder like the one that had taken place at their school. And Yumiko's demeanor had well implied that somebody else was flexing political muscle.

"Though the next time you, or one of your acquaintances plans to stand up from the dead, please try to inform somebody before running outside. "

* * *

It wasn't until darkness had once again fallen outside before Fuji was cleared to visit Tezuka. He would have to stay another two days at the hospital for observation – but within the hospital he was free to move. Wandering the corridors, however, was not a very exciting or interesting way to spend time. If it hadn't been for the different number on the doors, the floor Fuji found himself on now would have looked exactly as the one he had just left behind.

In the distance he heard somebody pass, and wondered for a moment, if telling Yumiko that it was okay of her to leave had been the right decision. She had been in dire need of rest, but then again, he wasn't certain what to expect of Tezuka.

What if …

Fuji firmly shook his head. Tezuka was a very rational and calm person - regardless of what Fuji's desperation had done to him, he would not react violently. Still, Fuji couldn't help biting his lip, as he knocked on the door.

After a moment, a familiar voice gave the okay to enter and Fuji steeled himself.

Tezuka looked pale. Pale, exhausted, but not different from before, and it was as if a weight was being lifted from Fuji's chest. He could breathe – even as he studied Tezuka just as intensely as those dark eyes were studying him.

There were shadows underneath Tezuka's eyes – was this a new development, or did they stem from the time before? Was this current exhaustion, or had that been a fatigue building up while Fuji's mind had been occupied with different things? And was it just him, or had Tezuka lost weight?

Then again, Fuji admitted to himself with a cynical smile, it wasn't as if he himself had had a big appetite during the week preceding today. So shirts sitting a bit more loosely than normal probably ought to remain unmentioned.

"Hello Tezuka," he said, belatedly, then turned to greet the other occupants, "Good evening, Tezuka-san, Nakayama-san."

"Fuji-kun," Nakayama inclined his head, while his wife even smiled. Tezuka Ayana left her son's bedside to have a closer look at him.

"Fuji-kun," she said, taking in his pallor and resting a hand on his arm, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Fuji replied with a small smile, "A bit tired, but okay."

Then he tilted his head and glanced to his friend, who had remained silent until now. "Tezuka, how are you doing?"

Had Tezuka been anybody else, he would probably have shown a wide range of emotions. Fuji could make out a sense of exhaustion, judging by the slump of his friend's shoulders. His expression now appeared to be blank, rather than stoic, so Fuji hazarded a guess that Tezuka felt quite confused – though disinclined to show it.

"Quite alright, thank you," Tezuka replied.

Fuji raised an eyebrow – judging from the flat tone, Tezuka was rather unconvinced Fuji himself was doing as well as he had just told his mother, thus Tezuka gave him a just as credible answer.

"Really, the two of you gave everybody quite a scare," Tezuka Kuniharu commented in an attempt to lighten the mood. All eyes turned on him, and he almost seemed to shrink in his seat.

"I don't even understand half of it now," he muttered, and Fuji couldn't help the smiling a little. The corners of Ayana's mouth twitched as well, and Nakayama sighed.

"It certainly is quite a complicated affair," he stated, "But as it has been taken care of now, there shouldn't be any further problems."

His wife nodded, though Fuji couldn't help but think she didn't quite agree with her husband's phrasing. The impression did not last, as she spoke up. "So, as I believe both Kuniharu-san and Ayana-san do have some questions, why don't we go outside with them and discuss it over a cup of tea? I'm sure we all could use one."

She turned around with a polite, warm smile. "And I think, Fuji-kun and Kunimitsu-kun probably have some things to discuss as well, so why don't we give them some privacy for now?"

Protest was obvious on several faces – Ayana would rather hear the story from her son, and Nakayama Kenta, too, seemed disinclined to leave the room. However the smile on his wife's face left no room for discussions.

Within few minutes Tezuka and Fuji were left alone.

"So, Tezuka," Fuji started and couldn't help the dry intonation, "Where do we even start?"

He received a barely veiled glare, and then the mood once again turned somber. Tezuka sighed. "First of all, I probably owe you an apology. If you hadn't come with me to the house then, none of this would have happened."

"Do you really think so?" Fuji asked in return, "That thing had been looking for a way to get what it wanted for quite some time. It might have attacked anyway. Would you rather it had attacked somebody else?"

"Of course not," Tezuka replied immediately, "But you might not have gotten involved."

And died, but that part remained unspoken.

"To be honest," Fuji took a deep breath, "In that case I'm rather glad I got involved when I did. It doesn't change that the entire affair was a nightmare, but I don't want to imagine how else it could have played out."

If Tezuka had happened onto the demon all on his own. If he had been plunged into that madness without any sort of warning.

The real Mori had probably met the demon without prior warning. The longer Fuji had thought about it, the more certain he had grown. Mori must have encountered the demon on a journey, and by chance had let her connection to the Nakayama's slip.

And somehow or another the demon had then seen to her sudden, premature death.

If that had happened to Tezuka…

Fuji shuddered.

"I still could have done without what happened to you," Tezuka said, "But anyway, thank you. I don't think I would have gotten through this without your help."

"Then I have to thank you for saving my life," Fuji replied spontaneously, and for a moment all color drained from Tezuka's face. It was as if he hadn't wanted to remember just how close it had been.

It had only been last night that Tezuka had listened to a doctor proclaim Fuji dead.

"Without you I wouldn't be here today," Fuji admitted with a soft smile, and something in Tezuka's chest shifted so violently, his throat closed up. When he finally could breathe again, it was merely enough for a short: "Me as well."

There was a strange sensation blossoming in his chest - seeing Fuji smile like this made his heart feel as if it was about to stop. And then he shoved this notion aside. Now was not the time to marvel at the miracle that made it possible for them both to be here together. Or the desperation he had felt a mere night ago.

"Anyway, I was wondering," Tezuka continued, "I understand she was looking to repossess humanity. But why did she pick me? Was there a particular reason for this?"

Fuji sighed. "To be honest, I'm not certain. Whatever she did involved a kind of power far beyond what I ever read about, so I'm not familiar with the conditions. Hearsay has it that for certain… spells, if you want, certain types of persons are preferred to others. In your case – it could have been for the mere heck of it. Or maybe she had hoped to use you in order to gain access to other valuables in the Nakayamas' possession. I don't know, but my guess would be your type of personality made you especially eligible for her end. Though if you want to know for certain, you should probably ask Nakayama-san."

Tezuka nodded silently, and Fuji could almost see the gears working in his head.

"Tezuka," he swallowed, and forcefully pushed away the uneasiness that made his fingers twist the fabric of his shirt, "There is another thing…"

"Yes?" Tezuka asked, while Fuji collected himself.

"You… when I reversed that demon's spell, its powers were transferred onto you," Fuji had to bite his lip again, while the expression on Tezuka's face softened. "You saved my life. I only wish you hadn't done it at the price of your own."

A whirlwind of emotions exploded within Fuji's chest at that, though he clamped it down. Now was not the place-

Not when he did not yet know what his actions had done to Tezuka in the end.

His friend hardly appeared any different from normal, sitting in the hospital bed.

Yet…

"When Nakayama-san shot her, she died. Which is what would happen to a human," Fuji lifted his head and looked at Tezuka, "Tezuka, if she died as a human, are you…?"

Tezuka's expression changed. There was small, atypical smile forming on his face and a shudder ran down Fuji's spine.

And then, all of sudden, dense, concentrated power filled the room. Fuji's heart stopped, he forgot to breathe – and only remembered looking outside into the darkness, a snow-covered garden somewhere in the vicinity of Nikko; reaching out only a day later to be assaulted by something so powerful it made him feel as if he was drowning.

As suddenly as it had started, the power vanished, and it was once again only the two of them sitting in a white, sparsely decorated hospital room. Outside, the little light was slowly fading away, and a cloud-covered sky disappearing into the darkness of night.

A gust of cold air – probably from an open window somewhere down the corridor outside – caressed Fuji's cheeks, and brought with it the smell of snow.

"Nakayama-san was not using normal bullets," Tezuka said, and sounded so utterly like himself Fuji found himself unwilling to believe what had just transpired. Had it really been Tezuka who had unleashed this wave of fearsome power?

"And she never transferred her powers fully onto me, since she realized what you had done before that ceremony was complete," Tezuka shrugged his shoulders in a rare gesture of helplessness, "I may not understand the details, but I think it'll be fine."

Yet in spite of those reassuring words, Fuji couldn't help feeling frozen to the bone.

tbc

* * *

_Well, there isn't much more to follow. I do hope most questions are answered at this point - if not, or you have anything else to share, please do so. ^_^ _


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

* * *

**Reviews:** A huge thank-you for everybody who kept reading, even though there were long gaps between updates. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this. Some of you left terrific reviews that made me feel very good about myself, or helped me with little things I kept doing wrong for a long, long time (and still would, if it wasn't for you). *bows*

**AN:** Here goes the very last chapter. I hope it answers all questions - even though it does not entirely resolve the plot, but that is what I wanted to happen (a straight-out happy end appeared too far away after everything that has happened).

* * *

**Twenty-seven**

No trace of the incredible power Fuji had just sensed from Tezuka remained in the air any longer, yet the silence filling the hospital room was stifling. For a long while neither of them moved, while outside the first white snowflakes began drifting downward.

"Fuji?"

Tezuka's tentative question cut straight through the jumbled thoughts clouding Fuji's mind. He flinched, before reminding himself to keep his expression positive – there was no need to confront Tezuka with his dark suspicions.

Much less if Tezuka indeed understood as much as it appeared.

"Well, "Fuji cleared his throat, "At least this way we can be relatively certain she won't bother us again."

As long as Tezuka possessed the majority of her power, that was indeed not a danger. While Fuji knew he'd never be fully convinced – he had seen too many impossible things happen by now – the aged skeleton they'd pulled from the pond suited the bill rather nicely. There was no telling if the imposter of Mori-san truly was dead, though at least for now she would not trouble them any longer.

Even if something of her had survived – it was unlikely it would regain enough power to trouble them once more in one lifetime.

"That's good to hear," replied Tezuka quietly.

Fuji used the silence to study his friend once again. To somebody who did not know him, Tezuka merely appeared a little pale. Fuji on the other hand could discern fatigue in the way he held himself – the slight slumping of his shoulders gave away more than anything on Tezuka's face ever would. What disturbed him was the distant expression in Tezuka's eyes. He could remember too few moments when Tezuka had appeared absent-minded; and neither of those moments had been particularly good.

The last time he'd seen it was when Tezuka's grandmother had died a few years ago.

Fuji swallowed, and his heart clenched painfully.

"Tezuka," he muttered, his voice sounding choked to his own ears, "I… I'm sorry."

Tezuka's eyes widened. "Whatever for?"

"Getting you stuck with this," said Fuji, and directed his gaze to the floor, "I know this must be horrid for you. It was … such a thoughtless thing to do, but I couldn't think of anything else. I know it's not an excuse, but I didn't want anything else to happen to you. I just never thought about what it would turn out like."

Seeing Fuji withdraw physically, Tezuka reached out and gripped his friend's arm. Fuji flinched, but turned his eyes up and held Tezuka's gaze.

"Fuji, I think I told you before already – if you hadn't it, I'd be dead now."

Fuji blinked. "Aren't you angry?"

"Why should I be?" Tezuka let his momentary confusion show on his face. Suppressing his emotions now would do little good, when what they both so dearly needed were truth and honesty.

The pain in Fuji's expression intensified, and he tried to take a step backwards – Tezuka however, did not let go of Fuji's arm, and could feel small shivers running through the limb.

"I made you lose your humanity," Fuji whispered, "I turned you into a monster."

Tezuka abruptly felt cold. There were a thousand things and more he needed to tell Fuji, but the voice loudest in his head was the one screeching in denial, screaming he was no monster, never had been and never would be. The impulse was violent, forceful, foreign. Completely out of place among the usual voices of reason and fairness.

Fuji's eyes widened, and Tezuka's grip on his arm tightened.

"Fuji, stop it. One, you had little choice and I'd be more than an ungrateful fool to be angry with you for saving my life. Secondly, while I may not be an expert, the encounter left me with enough of my humanity intact – so I owe you far too much to even remotely contemplate being angry with you," said Tezuka, "As a matter of fact, I might just ask you the same – if I hadn't asked you to come with me then none of this would even have happened."

"You couldn't have known," replied Fuji, and Tezuka saw the tension drain from his posture.

"And yet I can't help but feel responsible," Tezuka straightened up, "But if you promise you won't blame yourself for saving my life, I'll try to accept that I had as small a chance of preventing what happened as you did."

Fuji pressed his lips together and averted his gaze. "All right."

Tezuka's tightened his grip. "I mean it, Fuji."

Fuji glanced up, and there were no words to describe the expression marring his face then. Something clenched violently in Tezuka's chest.

"I know, Tezuka," murmured Fuji, "I know."

And Tezuka knew no matter what he said, he would not convince his friend.

* * *

They saw each other a few more times before they returned to school only three days later. But as all of those encounters happened either in the presence of hospital staff or their families, no opportunity for a long conversation presented itself.

Tezuka did not like the way Fuji looked at him.

Yet he couldn't deny something within him had changed. The more time passed, the more he became aware of how he suddenly noticed things he had not paid attention to before. He found himself being able to exactly predict who was going to enter his room; and what mood they were in.

At times, when the white walls became too dull, and the numbers in his math book started to form cryptic messages, he let his mind drift. Wondered if he could wield those powers as he had seen the demon do.

His eyes fell onto the glass of water at his side.

She had made a lake freeze over in a moment.

Could he do it as well?

And then he recalled Fuji's worries, and Yumiko's calculating gaze. Power like this, as Nakayama had told him, was always corrupting. The demon they'd faced had – if their research was to be believed – once been a very morally upright woman. Though humanity was notoriously weak where power like this was concerned.

Would attempting to freeze one glass of water turn him into something like that?

In a fit he had asked Yumiko one evening, when they were alone for a rare five minutes. Part of him felt as if he was betraying Fuji by asking his sister; even more so since his action implied he doubted Fuji would answer him honestly.

But he wanted answers.

"Very, very few cases of individuals amassing powers as this have been known," Yumiko said thoughtfully, "and for obvious reasons, even fewer details are known. As it stands however, not one did retain their humanity."

"Which is probably a deduction from the fact that all those cases that have been documented involved harmful activities, I suppose," said Tezuka, "Theoretically speaking, would that not allow for an individual retaining their humanity to remain unnoticed?"

Yumiko tilted her head. "While that is a theoretical possibility, most individuals living longer than one human lifetime end up being noticed at one time or another. And unless they have made use of powers at their disposal, they would not have lived longer than normal."

"And it is not possible that one has escaped notice?"

She shook her head. "Not one. Tezuka-kun, human beings are not made to wield powers as this. Even the slightest use corrupts the soul – there is a good reason Nakayama-san is distrustful of everybody with a supernatural talent, as few bring about good things. And all of them, without exception, demand a price."

A shudder ran down Tezuka's spine, and he clutched the white blanket a little closer.

"The woman you faced had used those powers too long and too extensively. She had lost her mortality, her humanity and her soul – and yet she obsessed about gaining it back. While it will probably forever remain a mystery if it was to gain more power or for another reason – do you want to end like her?" Yumiko smiled at him.

Tezuka recalled the landscape he'd seen within her world. The archaic, ornamental palaces, the sandy mountains and the bright blue sky. Remembered the beautiful woman who had smiled so coldly as she had brought about Fuji's death.

There had been no emotions left within her.

But that world – could it truly have been so detailed, so beautiful, if no soul had created it?

He shook his head, chasing the thought away. It was not a question he'd ever be able to answer – and even if he could, the answer would not undo any of the damage, nor would it make him forget what he'd already seen.

Fuji's blood on his fingers…

"However," Yumiko's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced up to find a small smile on her face, "Hearsay has it, that a few individuals after having been granted similar powers lived long and fulfilling lives without ever using their powers. They were never noticed for their supernatural abilities, and died, old and content."

Tezuka felt his lips quirking upward.

"I see," he replied, and already then the door opened once again to admit his mother into the room. Tezuka found other things to concentrate on – finals were coming, and while he wasn't too worried, the amount of material he had missed was far from trifling.

And anyhow, the way forward was clear.

Even if it left him practically without a choice.

* * *

When the bell finally announced the end of class with a shrill ring, Fuji couldn't quite help sighing in relief. While he didn't mind the subject – history – much, having spent most of his hospital stay reviewing school materials with Tezuka, he found himself rather bored. And tired, as well, but the concerned gazes of Eiji and Oishi already told him he still did not look entirely healthy.

With the weather this cold, it would take him even longer to recover.

"Hey Fuji, I was thinking about getting some fresh air," said Eiji. Fuji glanced up to see his friend watching him closely – his expression giving away what his light tone did not.

And then there were the rumors.

Upon his return to school Fuji had found many a curious gaze following him – Eiji had made certain to shield him from outright questions, but Tezuka's and his abrupt and simultaneous absence had raised questions. Given the incident with the dead cat's head in his locker, Fuji found himself unduly grateful that apparently nobody had heard of what had transpired in the student council room. He did not want to know how that had been done – and he ought to feel guilty about the truth being concealed, but fallout was already bad enough as it was.

If Hasegawa's murder had come to light…

Fuji swallowed. "Yes, that's sounds like a good idea."

They made their way to the roof, Eiji chattering happily all the way, while Fuji followed him rather subdued. He hadn't really forgotten about what happened in school during that week, but he honestly had not paid much thought to it. Thinking on it now – he owed quite some people at least an explanation.

He wished there was a way to undo that moment, when he had exposed Eiji and Ishida to the sight of Hasegawa's butchered remains. Or the cat's body – he could tell it had disturbed some of his fellow students severely. And he still did not know who else had seen Hasegawa's remains.

But there was no way to undo what had happened.

The roof was empty, covered only in a thin layer of snow. Overhead the sky was dark and grey, and down below the school yard remained deserted. Glancing toward the horizon, Fuji found the world looked as if it had been bleached, and all that was left were shades of grey and white. It was hard to imagine the landscape had once been so vividly colored. And even harder still to think that in little more than a month, the trees would start to bloom again.

"Fuji, are you okay? And don't you dare to smile and tell me everything is fine. I know you better than that!" All of a sudden, the smile was gone from Eiji's face, and Fuji bit his lip. Once again he wondered how Eiji managed to be so concerned for everyone else, when he had been exposed to sight that was beyond most people's nightmares?

"I'm more or less okay now," he answered, letting some of his fatigue show in the smile he directed at Eiji, "And yes, that's actually the truth."

"But something did happen," said Eiji, "Fuji, you don't need to tell me every detail that happened, or even whatever did – all I want to know is if it's still happening or not, and if there's anything I can do about it."

"I know," muttered Fuji, "And I wish I could tell you. It's just so…"

"Horrible? Surreal?" suggested Eiji with concern.

Fuji nodded without a word. Once more he could only marvel at Eiji's ability to speak of events he was doing his hardest to ignore.

Eiji sighed. "Don't worry, you don't need to tell me anything if you don't want to. But if it's okay, there were a few things I was wondering about," he waited for Fuji's slight nod, "This was one of those things that usually falls more into your sister's area of expertise, no?"

Again, Fuji nodded, his gaze concentrated on Eiji's sneakers. It was small wonder that no teacher had ever taken offense at the bright red laces Eiji liked to replace the common white ones with.

Eiji took a deep breath, and with obvious effort he lowered his voice. "I might be mistaken, and it all might be conincidental, but to me it appears Tezuka was involved as well?"

Fuji glanced up, and suddenly found himself unable to stand the inquisitive gaze of his friend. The honest concern directed at himself was too much – if Eiji knew about Tezuka then…

He turned once again to look at the snow-covered roofs. "Yes."

Eiji did not miss his reaction. "And it all ties in with that cat, and whatever happened in the student council room?"

"It does." Fuji made to continue – Eiji deserved at least an attempt at an explanation, but his red-haired friend held up a hand to stall those words.

"Last point: did I understand correctly that whatever has happened is over now? And should not affect you, Tezuka or anybody else any further?"

Fuji swallowed. "I think so."

Eiji heard the doubt in his words and raised an eyebrow.

"As far as I understand the situation," Fuji specified, "Nothing further should happen. The … being that is responsible for those incidents at school, as well as for what happened to Tezuka and me, doesn't exist any longer. At least, it's not corporeal anymore. Nothing should happen anymore, Eiji. Nothing."

His voice sounded shaky even to himself.

"Fuji, are you sure you're okay?" Eiji asked, grasping both of Fuji's shoulders firmly, "I only saw those incidents at school, and to be honest, the cat was enough to have Momo swear of all meat for a week, and what we saw in the student council room…."

Eiji trailed off. Fuji swallowed, once more reminded of the unnecessary violence he had inadvertently exposed his friends to.

"Look at me," said Eiji and Fuji forced himself to stop starring into the distance over Eiji's shoulders, "I can't tell what you're thinking, but you're not being yourself. Not that I would expect it after everything, but I'm worried. You don't even need to tell me anything, but if there's any way I can help…"

Fuji's throat constricted. The honest concern in Eiji's eyes was unbearable.

"I was wondering," he softly filled the silence, "Do you know who else saw the student council room that day?"

Eiji gracefully ignored the change of topic. "Of the students, I think it were only us and Ishida. I'm not certain about the teachers, though if you're worried about rumors – there are none."

"That is … surprising," muttered Fuji, though he did not know whether to be grateful or horrified at this. Keeping a secret crush quiet in the halls of Seigaku was something that generally didn't happen, so that an event of this size could be kept under wraps was nothing short of a miracle.

Or foul play.

"Only very few students saw, and the teachers involved were probably instructed to keep quiet about the affair," said Eiji while taking a small step backward. He did not release Fuji's arms. "Why the press got no wind of it, I've got no idea, but according to what I know, the room was locked after our discovery, and then the body got removed and the room cleaned within the same night."

Fuji's lips twitched. "Let's just say somebody in a position of influence was interested in keeping this quite. And to be honest, I can't say I mind."

Eiji joined the humorless chuckle. "Neither do I. Think what an uproar it would have been – and so close to exams none of us needed any more excitement. Or hysterical parents."

"You didn't tell yours?" Fuji tilted his head.

"Fujiko, honestly. My parents are brilliant, but you know my mom. She'd have pitched the fit of the century," Eiji shuddered at the image, "Probably wouldn't even have let me come into a 1km radius of the school. No, I didn't tell anybody about what I saw. Not even Oishi."

"Oh." There wasn't much Fuji could reply to this.

Eiji grinned. "And you don't need to tell me I should talk about it. I know that, but I'd rather talk to somebody who won't throw a fit, make me transfer to another school or inform the press."

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "And you haven't got any friends to fit that bill?"

"Well," Eiji tilted his head, "I can always talk to Oishi, but you know how he is. He'd probably worry himself all the way to a stomach ulcer. As for Taka, I'm not too sure how he'd react, Buchou is a little scary, and do you really want to find out what Inui would do with information like that?"

"I suppose I can see how talking to Inui might defeat the purpose of a conversation like that," Fuji smiled and his heart felt much lighter, "Though I can think of another third-year you did not mention."

"Normally I'd talk to you, of course. But seeing as you're up to your eyes in the entire affair, I guess you'd probably be better off finding your own person to talk to." Eiji's fingers tightened around his upper arms again, probably unintentionally.

"I think between Yumiko and Tezuka I'm pretty fine, though…" Fuji trailed off. There were issues, he recalled, he was hesitant to talk about with Tezuka. Considering his own involvement, his judgment was certainly clouded where Tezuka's recently acquired abilities were concerned.

Eiji smiled warmly. "How about it, then? I talk to you and you talk to me?"

This, thought Fuji, was much better than the suffocating show of concern. Even if it probably wasn't even half as helpful in the long run. "As long as you don't expect me to make sense… deal."

They shared a haphazard smile.

"So, how come Ishida hasn't spoken to anybody about what he saw?" Fuji already feared he'd been coerced into silence. Now that he had seen the means certain people were willing to employ - he shuddered.

"I have no idea, " Eiji shrugged, "And actually, we might never know. Last I heard he transferred to a boarding school in England."

Fuji's eyes widened. "Do you know if…?"

Eiji finally let go of Fuji, and kicked at the snow. "I suppose it might be a reaction to what happened. I don't know the exact circumstances, and I don't know anybody who's actually been friends with him and would know more…"

"Nor is it certain that he would have told his friends anything," ended Fuji grimly.

"I heard it was quite a famous school. Some mentioned he always had wanted to go there…"

Fuji caught Eiji's eyes. "And all of a sudden, the necessary scholarship happens upon him. I don't know, Eiji, but I guess the same person that kept the incidents under wraps took care of arranging that scholarship."

At least, Fuji resumed to himself, Ishida had gotten out something for keeping quiet. While he didn't want to speculate about long-term effects or other circumstances, for the time being he could probably live with this outcome.

"That's quite an influential character, then," said Eiji.

"It seems as if, though, to be honest, I'm not certain who exactly to hold responsible for this," Fuji could only shake his head at himself, "To be exact, the only party of some influence involved in this are friends or Tezuka's grandfather, and if their influence truly stretches this far…"

"There's some knowledge one can do without," Eiji commented, "It's what I always think during math."

Fuji had to chuckle. "I'm afraid Ryuuzaki-sensei won't agree."

"Well, I suppose we'd better get back in this case," replied Eiji and stuffed his hands deeper into the pocket of his jacket. The fresh air had grown freezing a while ago, and Fuji felt his cheeks growing numb.

"But, Fuji," Eiji turned, his hand already on the metal handle of the door, "You promise you will talk to me if anything comes up? I don't care what it is – just don't make me worry like that again."

And Fuji wondered whatever he had done to deserve a friend like Eiji.

* * *

"Tezuka!"

The dark-haired boy turned around to see his friend approach. Fuji was almost unrecognizable under all the layers of cloth he was wearing, though Tezuka had to admit that the same was true for him as well. And as temperatures stayed firmly in the sub-zeros, scarves and gloves became permanent companions. Once more he wondered if meeting up in the park as they did in spring or summer had really been a good idea - the place was deserted, pathways, bushes and greens all covered under layers and layers of snow - but Tezuka never truly felt at home in those overheated cafés with their fancy plush chairs, regardless of how comfortable they were.

Today, though...

Fuji, or the part of his face Tezuka could see, was still too pale. How long had it been since he had heard those cursed words leave the doctor's lips? And while that spell had passed, Fuji had not died, and they were both whole and mostly healthy - he just couldn't forget what he had felt when Fuji had died in his arms.

"How are you?" Fuji asked, cheerful as if to spite the gloomy, frozen scenery surrounding them, "And how is your grandfather doing?"

"My grandfather is quite well, thank you. He is still convinced there was nothing truly wrong with him initially, and the doctors were only worried due to his age," Tezuka replied, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets, "I'm fine as well."

Fuji tilted his head. "You look a little pale."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. In his opinion Fuji looked far worse than he did - after all, it was Fuji who had almost died. Tezuka merely had pushed his body too far and suffered from exhaustion. So at times, when he forgot to mind himself, he caught himself dragging his feet or taking an escalator where he'd usually opt for the stairs.

"Shall we walk a bit?" Tezuka suggested, suddenly overly aware of the bitterly cold air. He could practically feel it slowly, but surely making its way through his coat - though as long as they were moving, he should be fine. Fuji nodded, and they set off without a true direction in mind. Snow crunched under their shoes, as Tezuka glanced worriedly up to the grey sky above.

Once it begun to snow, they should head home. His parents had been unhappy to let him leave the house in this weather - undoubtedly, had they known he was out for a walk in the park, they would never have allowed him outside.

But he'd postponed talking to Fuji for far too long now. They rarely saw each other in school – and if they did, conversation remained stifled and awkward. Oishi had begun to notice, and Tezuka was not sure what to make of the way he had caught Eiji watching him a few times.

"Were you able to sort things out with your family?" asked Fuji.

Tezuka sighed and felt like kicking the snow. "I believe so. Between the Nakayamas and myself we were able to provide them with adequate explanations."

"Explanations?" questioned Fuji, without missing a beat, "Not the truth?"

"I wish I could tell them the entire story. You know I don't like lying. But..." He trailed off unhappily.

"It's too complicated," Fuji finished for him with a bitter smile, "Never mind, I didn't tell my sister quite everything either, though I suppose she can guess most of it."

Tezuka remained silent. He wondered if it was a curse or blessing to have a person able to guess what wasn't said. But then again, it would not make much of a difference in this case - not anymore, as things were over.

"She's worried," said Fuji suddenly, his voice ominously sharp in the silence of the deserted park, "About you, you know. And in light of what has happened, as well as Nakayama-san's stance on things... well, I can't help being concerned as well. Did he say anything to you since?"

A frown crossed Tezuka's face. "No, he did not. At least he did not address the issue of what happened to that thing's abilities. From what I could gather, he seems to believe her powers died with her. On the other hand, I think his wife suspects that this isn't the case."

He wondered if he should mention his short conversation with Yumiko. Or that he had made a conscious effort to suppress those powers whenever the Nakayamas were around.

Fuji nodded attentively, suppressing a shudder when an icy gust of wind passed them. The trees barely moved, frozen in place; only a few snowflakes were lifted from the ground and carelessly tossed through the air.

"Do you think Nakayama-san - should he find out - might do anything?" Fuji bit his lip, "I mean, he made his stance quite clear."

Tezuka took a deep breath. He'd been over this in his mind more than once. Saying it out loud, he found the words did not quite come the way he wished them to. "To be honest, I can't imagine him doing anything to me. However, this situation is out of the ordinary, so I have to admit I'm less certain than I'd like to be. For the time being however, I doubt it will be a problem."

"Is that so?" asked Fuji with a slight smile, "Then I'll trust your judgment on that matter."

Silence fell once again, heavy this time. The sky seemed to be growing darker, as what little daylight there was receeded. Temperatures were expected to drop steeply during the night - spring, it appeared, would arrive late this year. And they ought to head inside somewhere to warm up. This frigid air on top of everything else would do them little good.

"Fuji," Tezuka began, "Perhaps you remember that I told you about that tennis school in Germany I was interested in?"

"Actually, you told me you had applied a month ago or so. Did they contact you?" Fuji kept his tone light.

Tezuka swallowed. He didn't quite know why he was so hesitant to tell Fuji, or what that odd knot in his throat was, but he had trouble finding the words to say. "I've been accepted," said he, "So I'll probably leave next month."

He was relieved to see Fuji smile at him. "Congratulations, then. You always wanted to go there, didn't you? And that's a wonderful opportunity," and then Fuji's smile turned confidential, "Though I never doubted if they would accept you. It would have been too great a loss for them if they hadn't."

Fuji's faith in his capacities was heart-warming, though for a split second Tezuka found himself wishing for Fuji not to smile - because in a smile this wide his eyes stayed hidden.

"Thank you," replied Tezuka.

Fuji kept on walking, ignoring Tezuka slowing his steps. "So, when did the letter arrive?"

"A few days ago. I was still at the hospital at that time, so I'm not certain when exactly." Tezuka recalled feeling strangely unexcited when he found the envelope waiting for him at home. Prior to everything, he had been on the edge, waiting for the outcome of this application - if it worked out, that vague, vague dream of pursuing a career as a professional tennis player might actually come true one day. He hadn't dared to hope - considering his parents' conservative stance on education, the expenses involved, the little fact that few Japanese tennis player had been successful internationally - truly, a career in this field still was hard to imagine.

So when he had sat down and filled out the forms, he'd felt shaken. He never considered himself a person to chase his dreams, too rational to give much credit to the rare exceptions that populated shallow journals and self-laudatory biographies. But playing tennis for the rest of his life was what he wanted.

What he had wanted before.

Now he felt as if his entire life had shifted off balance

"So when will you leave?" Fuji asked abruptly, his expression bright and yet completely unreadable.

"Soon, probably. I'd like to be here for the graduation ceremony, but I'm not sure if that will work out," he took a deep breath. Seeing Fuji smile like this was almost painful. He wanted to reach out, exorcise the guilt that so obviously kept preying on his friend's soul.

"Well, I guess we'll find out," Fuji smiled, "Though I hope you'll tell us in time. I'd feel rather unhappy if you were to disappear without a word."

"I'll tell you as soon as the flight is booked," said Tezuka solemnly. He wanted to ask if Fuji was okay with it at all. If Fuji felt he was running away, abandoning him – but Fuji' behavior gave him no clue.

And he did not know how to ask.

"How about we go and get a hot drink somewhere? Any longer and I think my toes will freeze off."

* * *

And the next two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.

Exams, while not easy, were nothing that had ever particularly worried either Fuji or Tezuka. So even with everything that had happened, both were fairly confident to have done well, in spite of having had less time to prepare than their class mates. And to be quite honest, Fuji admitted to himself, they probably still had ended up investing more time in their studies than Eiji or Momoshirou.

Not that that impaired their willingness to celebrate in the slightest.

Even before Fuji had slid open the entrance door to Kawamura Sushi, he heard the excited voices of his fellow team members laughing loudly, and couldn't quite help the smile spreading on his face. This was what he had so desperately had longed for when things had gone to hell those few weeks ago - this carefree laughter, bright smiles and the incredible sensation of not having to worry about anything.

At least for the next few hours.

Fuji pushed the door to the side, and warm light spilled outside, giving the small banks of snow on the sidewalk a far warmer glow. He hardly had time to even unbutton his coat, before Eiji enthusiastically welcomed him - almost throwing both of them off their feet with the exuberance of his hug.

"You know, you're quite late," was what Fuji heard once Eiji's arms had loosened enough to let him regain his bearings, "Even ochibi is already here. We were just about to call you - I don't think even Tezuka, Oishi and Taka-san combined would be able to keep the food safe any longer. And I'm really hungry as well. Kawamura-san outdid himself, you know. It's torture to have to sit and watch all that food without being allowed to touch it. But now you're here, so we can start eating!"

Fuji watched Eiji toss his scarf in the general direction of the coat rack - which was already well buried under a veritable mountain of fabric. His shoes joined the general chaos, and then Eiji pulled Fuji along to one of the low tables.

"Hello," Fuji smiled, well-aware he looked just as wind-swept as he felt, "Sorry for being late, but traffic was quite slow tonight."

"Never mind, Fuji-senpai," Momoshirou returned, "Nobody's starved yet."

"Glutton," came the low-keyed hiss from Kaidou, which earned him swap on the shoulder, and a snort from Eiji, as Kawamura also took his place at the table.

"Well, I hope everybody enjoys the food, then," he uttered, a bit off-balance as all eyes came to rest on him.

"We're much obliged to you and your father", Oishi said, while the majority of their small group attacked the food vigorously, and Tezuka inclined his head in Kawamura's direction: "Thank you very much."

Fuji had barely tasted the first roll, when beside him Eiji exclaimed: "It's delicious!", and Kawamura - unable to reply with his mouth full - flushed pink. The next ten minutes were spent in religious non-silence, as everybody generously helped themselves to food, and more food. Only after the deepest pits of various stomachs had been filled the general pace slowed, and conversation was attempted over the clinking of ceramic bowls and chopsticks.

The evening went on perfectly. Everybody was having fun, laughing at outrageous things, toasting to the most ridiculous ideas, until even Oishi was brightly flushed, and Echizen kept staring at the table as if he'd never seen one before. They weren't drunk on much more than one celebratory cup of sake and air, but Fuji fairly basked in the warmth.

It wasn't until Eiji pulled him aside that he noticed he had barely done more than watch his friends enjoy themselves.

"Fuji, really," Eiji sighed, affecting an exasperated air, "I thought …"

He abruptly shook his head, and his expression became concerned. "You don't seem yourself. I don't know how to put it – I know it might take some time to get over whatever happened. Or adjust to it. But …"

Fuji had to suppress a flinch at the helpless gesture.

"I know. I just can't help it, Eiji," Fuji replied, "I'm sorry if I'm spoiling the mood."

"I very much doubt that, but I'd say quite some of us are noticing. And don't blame us for being worried. For whatever reason, Tezuka seems much more like himself already," Eiji hesitated, before adding, "Though given he usually behaves like a rock, that might not be too difficult."

Fuji smiled reflexively. Tezuka was acting like himself, sure enough, but underneath it all… how could any of them understand what he had done to Tezuka? Even Tezuka himself probably did not understand it yet, but there was no way he was not going to be furious once it all began to play out.

After all his rash actions had as good as killed the Tezuka they'd all come to know.

"Fuji?" Eiji asked, leaning closer.

"Sorry about that. I just spaced out there."

Eiji frowned. "It's Tezuka, isn't it? You're walking on eggshells around him – it's not obvious, though. Have you talked with him about what happened?"

"We… did," said Fuji, and Eiji's frown deepened.

"Obviously you should talk again."

* * *

It was one of the first days temperatures had risen above zero and snow was beginning to melt. Overhead, blue patches of sky promised spring, and on the way to the airport Fuji had gazed at the starting and landing airplanes with an odd feeling in his stomach.

Tezuka was leaving. Not for good, and they certainly had more than one way to stay in contact – yet Fuji wondered. He did not give into those thoughts – navigating the busy crowds of travellers took more attention than to be expected, and exchanging pleasantries with Tezuka's family kept his mind occupied.

"Thank you for coming here today," Tezuka once again told him the moment they were out of earshot.

Fuji shook his head with smile, and studied the display of a souvenir shop absently. "It's really no trouble at all. I can't quite believe time passed so fast. It seems like just yesterday we were drowning in snow, and now it won't be long before the cherry blossoms begin to bloom."

"I'll be quite sad to miss them this year," Tezuka replied, gravely.

"But certainly spring should also be nice in Germany as well, shouldn't it?" Quite fittingly, the display in front of them was decked out for the coming season - fans with cherry blossoms, pencils with cherry blossoms, cell phone cases, small purses and hand mirrors decorated with cherry blossoms - in part they were well done, yet everything still looked too much like a touristy souvenir.

"I suppose so," Tezuka answered, and slowly they made their way past the showcase of a restaurant that looked almost identical to the one where they had left Tezua's family at.

"You will find out," Fuji smiled, "And if it's not too much of a hassle, maybe you could send some pictures, from time to time. Most people don't quite believe it, but sending pictures at times is far less of a bother than writing emails or letters."

They strolled along, passing the odd mixture of people that populated airports without further comment, keeping their conversation light. Only when they reached the end of the shopping area, and very few travelers remained (of which not few had succumbed to jet lag or exhaustion on the few available seats), they came to a stop.

"Should we go back?" Fuji asked.

Tezuka glanced at his watch. "There is some more time left before my flight boards."

Fuji smiled, but stopped. "Well, I had always more expected you to be somebody who arrives at their gate well before departure time."

"I just don't like to sit there and wait," replied Tezuka, turning to gaze at Fuji, "It's boring."

Fuji had to raise an eyebrow at the atypical statement. "Well, in that case I'll…"

He abruptly trailed off and listened to a speaker announcement that was almost being drowned out by the cacophony of background noises.

"That's your flight, isn't it?" Fuji asked, "They've opened the gate quite early."

"It's a huge plane," Tezuka replied.

"I guess we should go back now," said Fuji, and now Tezuka could not protest. There were many things he wanted to say, and he was sure Fuji would not have shown up if he hadn't wanted to talk as well.

"In a moment," Tezuka made a decision and caught Fuji's arm before the other boy had turned away from him, "I had hoped we'd have some more time, but well…"

Fuji's eyes were wide-open, and Tezuka felt something in his chest clench.

"I was wondering if I did something wrong. Back there, when… on that beach," Tezuka bit his lip, "Somehow, you've not been yourself since then."

He swallowed, anxiously waiting for an answer.

"You did nothing wrong," Fuji shook his head, "Absolutely nothing. It's only… you should not have used that power. But that was my fault."

Tezuka took a deep breath and instinctively pulled Fuji even closer – Fuji had to tilt up his head to look at his face.

"Fuji, I think I told you before, but I regret nothing. While I could have done without the entire affair – we came out of it alive, didn't we? I only recall both of us doing what was necessary to survive."

Fuji shook his head. "You don't understand. Tezuka, what I've … You'll hate me once you understand."

"Never," Tezuka replied firmly, "And don't say I don't understand. I know what using those powers brings about, what the price is supposed to be. And do you honestly think me so weak I would succumb to using them when I've lived until today without them?"

He quirked his lips a little, and could see Fuji think.

"I still changed you," he muttered and Tezuka almost grinned.

"People always change," he quipped, "And the affair would have changed me anyway."

He turned to look imploringly into Fuji's eyes, "And in a way, I probably changed you as well. I may not know what exactly this will lead to, but I have no intention of succumbing to any evil power, selling my soul or joining any other ill-fated endeavor. So until we see each other again – stop feeling guilty. If anything is going to change me deeply, this coming term probably will – and not due to any kind of supernatural power."

There was a moment of silence.

Then Fuji sighed and let his head drop against Tezuka's chest.

"I really can't argue with you," he muttered, but for the first time in a very long while, his voice rang clear and unstrained, "While I doubt I can forget about it, I think I can accept you're still yourself. For the time being."

Tezuka raised his arms in what probably looked like a very awkward hug. But he'd never felt more content in his life.

"And that's all I wanted."

* * *

Later, when the plane was high over frozen Siberian tundra, Tezuka fell into an uneasy sleep. He dreamt of snow-covered mountains and beautiful palaces. And before a magnificent entrance stood Fuji and smiled at him.

That bright, honest smile Tezuka would pay any price to see again.

_The End_

* * *

_Well, please feel free to share your overall impressions with me. ^_^ _


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